


I Can Fix Anything If You Let Me Near

by one_golden_sun



Series: Poly Gay Trio Modern AU [2]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Daddy Issues, Daddy Kink, Established Relationship, Family Drama, Fighting, Hand Jobs, Henry Laurens' A+ Parenting, Little Space, M/M, Period-Typical Racism, Polyamory, Sex Toys, Threesome - M/M/M, Travel, Wedding Planning, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-22
Updated: 2017-04-29
Packaged: 2018-10-22 16:20:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 35,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10700640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/one_golden_sun/pseuds/one_golden_sun
Summary: Or, the One Where Martha Gets Married





	1. An Argument

**Author's Note:**

> Enjoy!

** Chapter 1: An Argument **

The water was boiling. John dumped in the bag of farfalle, gave it a quick stir. Across the breakfast bar, his boyfriend Lafayette was setting the table. He had insisted on bringing home a lush bouquet in spring pastels, frothy flowers John didn’t know the names of in blush pink, creamy white, milky blue. Lafayette spent more time fussing with the flowers, arranging them just so, than he did actually setting the table. 

“Lafayette? Honey?” Laf looked up from the flowers, smiling as soon as he looked at John. 

“Yes, my love?”

“Alex is gonna be home any minute, dinner’s about to be done. Can you set out the plates?”

“Of course, my apologies. Just want the table to look as beautiful as my two lovely, lovely boys. It is a challenge.”

“Goofball.” John rolled his eyes, went over to taste the homemade pesto he had blended in the food processor. Happy to hear the clanking of dishes and cutlery as he added a pinch more salt to the pesto. Timer beeping, John fishing out one of the farfalle to taste test, Lafayette humming to himself while he found the bottle of white wine he wanted to serve with dinner. The sounds of a comfortable, well worn home life that John had craved, physically lusted after, since meeting Alexander and Lafayette a little less than a year ago. 

John came out to dining area, piled the pasta onto the waiting plates. The farfalle looked so nice with the bright green of the pesto and red of the cherry tomatoes he had charred on the stove. Lafayette hummed appreciatively as he sat down, polite to a fault, waiting to dig in until Alex joined them. 

As if John’s thoughts had summoned, their front door burst open and in a flurry of movement and sound in walked Alexander. Walked was an understatement. Stormed was a better word.

“I knew the name Laurens was familiar!” Alex shouted, throwing his messenger bag. 

“It should be, my love. You have been seeing him for almost a year!”

“No. Shut up, Laf, and listen. Laurens… Laurens… How the _fuck_ did you forget to mention your father is Senator Henry Laurens from South Carolina? How did I fucking miss this?”

“Mon chou--”

“Listen! His father is HENRY LAURENS, THE ASSHOLE HOMOPHOBIC TRANSPHOBIC TEA PARTY BIGOT REPUBLICAN SENATOR FROM SOUTH CAROLINA.” Alex was shouting, standing on his tippy-toes and gesturing wildly. John visibly shrunk away, his face pale and freckles standing out. “DOES HE KNOW HIS PRECIOUS LITTLE FIRST BORN SON SUCKS DICK AND TAKES IT UP THE ASS?”

“Alexander--” Lafayette said warningly, but was cut off again by Alex’s ranting. 

“I don’t understand this, I don’t get it! How could you be related to that raging asshole? Do you know what he just introduced on the floor? Another fucking bathroom bill! Why don’t you ever try to talk sense in him? How could he vote against marriage equality when his own son is gay? Does he not see the cruelty, the absolute-- Wait does he know you’re gay? Does he even know? Oh god, the scandal writes itself. I could bust this story wide--”

“Alexander!” Lafayette said again, this time sharper while John buried his face in his own hands. “That is completely uncalled for, how could you even suggest--”

But Alex was hardly listening, pacing and continuing his diatribe. “I just can’t believe the _mental gymnastics_ these so called ‘family values’ politicians have to go through in order to justify their hatred, their bigotry. _His own son!_ I just can’t even believe. And you!” He spun around in place, pointed directly at John. “How could you just hide this from me? When you know my work, my lifeblood, revolves around taking down assholes like your sack of shit father, who is actively trying to destroy the diversity that makes this country great. Because he cares more about what the fuck is going on in other people’s bedrooms than the actual issues in this country. Disgusting! I am actually disgusted with you right now.”

At that, John dissolved into tears, still hiding his face, but his shoulders shook with the force of his crying. Lafayette simply stood up, grabbed Alex by his ponytail and marched him into the living room, to the corner furthest from the kitchen. “Knees. Now. You are going to stay in here. Twenty minutes. Silent. Nod if you understand.” Alex went to open his mouth but Lafayette silenced him with a glare. “If I hear you again, I am gagging you. It will not be fun. I need you to calm down, think about what you have said to John.” 

Before Alex could respond with anything other than an impatient huff, Lafayette returned to the kitchen. Noted the time on the clock, then went to John. He looked pretty beat down, with his face in his arms and his body heaving with sobs. 

Lafayette crouched next to John’s chair, laid a hand on his knee. “Little one? How can I help? Do you want to talk?” Face still hidden, John shook his head. He leaned against Lafayette, who had the immediate sense to envelope him in hug, pull him into his lap. They sat like that on the dining room floor for a few minutes until John had calmed down enough to lift his head. His face was red and splotchy and still wet from his tears. 

“Can I have Pokey?” he asked, his voice small and vulnerable. Lafayette had to take a grounding breath to remind himself not to be too angry with Alex for upsetting John, that this was a tense situation and both his boys were hurting, albeit in different ways. 

“Of course you can. Will you sit here on the chair, maybe eat a few bites of pasta while I go and fetch him for you?” 

John scrubbed at his eyes and nodded. Climbed back into the dining room chair and picked up his fork solemnly. As soon as Lafayette witnessed John poke one bite into his own mouth, he disappeared into the bedroom to grab Pokey. John finished about half of his dinner with his stuffed turtle on his lap, refused to say anything. Lafayette watched him closely while he ate a few bites of his own. “The pasta is superb, my love,” he complimented, and John just nodded.

When the twenty minutes were up, Lafayette beckoned Alexander to the table, on the condition that he be civil. Grudgingly, Alex shuffled over. “Are you ready to talk about this like adults?” Lafayette asked him.

“Yeah. Ugh. Um... John, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled. And I shouldn’t have ever suggesting outing you in an article, that was extremely shitty.” Alex grimaced, sat down at the table.

“Doesn’t matter,” John said in his little voice. “Father knows I’m gay anyway.”

Alex banged his fist on the table, earning him a glare from Lafayette. “That… I’m sorry, what? That makes no goddamn sense. He _knows you’re gay_ and yet he still supports laws to limit your rights? How can… Didn’t you just visit him for Thanksgiving? How can you stand being in the same room as him? How?”

“He’s… He’s still my father.” John sniffled, refused to meet Alex’s eyes. Lafayette took his hand, squeezed it. 

“Alexander,” he interrupted, sensing another tirade. 

“I just don’t get it. Your father is actively trying to dismantle our lives and well being. How can you be okay with that?”

John’s face grew pinched and pained. He clutched Pokey and said nothing. 

“Are you just gonna ignore me, John? You can’t tell me you are just gonna roll over and let him--” 

“Bath time,” Lafayette interrupted. “And then bed, I think. Alexander, eat your dinner. I need you to drop this subject, now, or you will sleep alone in your room tonight. Do I make myself plain?”

As if he wanted to get the last word in, Alex opened his mouth, but under Lafayette’s icy gaze he snapped it shut, sighed and slumped. He was still getting used to this… Caretaker role Lafayette sometimes played for John. And knowing he was the one who upset John kind of stung, like it was him versus the two of them. 

So Alex resigned himself to eating his pasta, sipping his wine, grumbling to himself while checking Twitter on his phone. He could hear the bath running, Lafayette speaking in soothing tones, splashing in the water. Finally, a soft giggle from John. The sound of the tub draining, the door opening and closing, muffled voices from the bedroom. When Lafayette finally returned to the table, he looked a tired, and a touch annoyed at Alex.

“Is he okay?” Alex asked. Lafayette sat back down at the table, rubbed his eyes sleepily. Picked up his fork. 

“He was not ready to sleep, but he wanted to be alone. I gave him my iPad, he is watching a movie.” Speared some of the farfalle. Though it had gone cold, it was still pretty tasty. 

“You’re mad at me.” It was a statement. “That’s not fair at all, how come you’re taking his side?”

“It is not about sides, Alexander. You are angry with him for something he has no control over. John is not his father. They do not have the same opinions.”

“Well, I know that, obviously. But how can he just sit by, not say anything, not tell his dad how important stuff like this is? Why isn’t he fighting harder for us, for himself?”

Lafayette sighed, set his fork down. “John is a fighter, just not like you. You know this. Henry is his father. He loves his father, even if his father thinks… Bad things.”

Eyes narrowing shrewdly, Alex looked at Lafayette. “Is this one of those… ‘Family things’ I don’t understand?”

“Exactly that.” Lafayette sighed once more, moved to begin clearing the table. He paused though, went to Alex and pulled him into a hug. “I do love you, mon amor.”

Returning the hug, Alex felt his heart tighten. Clung to the man he considered his family. Well, he along with John. Who he yelled at, threatened to out. Damn it.

“I’ll apologize,” Alex said into Laf’s shoulder. Hugged him tighter. “I’ll make it right.”

“I know you will,” Laf said. Pulled away, tucked some hair behind his ear. “You always do.”


	2. A Dinner

** Chapter Two: A Dinner **

Originally, John’s sister Martha was supposed to visit in January. However, the earliest Kleinfeld’s could give her an appointment was mid March. When John explained this to Lafayette and Alex, their reactions were mixed. Lafayette practically squealed with delight, was thrilled to meet any part of John’s family, was excited to go wedding dress shopping. Alex was more stoic with news, said “great” in a kind of resigned voice. 

A few days before her arrival, Lafayette had paid their cleaning people to come early, to give the apartment a deep clean, was setting up the guest bedroom with fresh linens, flowers and a set of expensive candles. 

“Oh, honey,” John said as Lafayette showed him the room. “It’s lovely. But Martha’s not staying here, she got a hotel room.”

From behind them, Alex snorted. “What?” He said all cold. “Our place not good enough for Miss Laurens?”

“No!” John said. Whipped around to look at him. “It’s not like that, she didn’t want to be in the way, for us to be put out--”

“Sure. Okay. She probably just doesn’t want to catch our yucky homo cooties. Just as well, I don’t need daughter dearest running home to father, telling him all about how his precious Jacky is living in absolute sin and sodomy, going against nature, depraved and--”

“Alexander. Please!” Lafayette cut him off. John’s fists were balled up by his sides, he looked on the verge of tears. “If Martha wants to stay at her hotel, that is her choice, it has nothing to do with us. I am… A little disappointed, but… We of course will have a lovely time no matter what.”

Instead of snapping back, John kind of crumpled in on himself. Sat down on the floor in the hallway. But when he spoke, his voice was steady, his normal voice. “Can we please just make this as easy as possible?” He said. “I love my sister. She’s nothing like my dad. Just… Alex, please be civil. _Please_.”

“I will if she is,” he grumbled.

Lafayette looked between them, worried another fight might break out. Instead, there was no more. “Ok, then. I will finish putting these away. Also, um, Alexander? Should I… Do I need to call someone like… Um… _Exterminateur_?”

“An exterminator?” Alex said. “Whatever for?”

He shuffled on his feet, his face flitting between anxiety and disgust. “The um… The cooties?”

Alexander and John burst out laughing, laughing so hard they couldn’t speak. 

***

Martha, ever the independent lady, insisted on getting herself from JFK to the hotel, didn’t want John and his boyfriends to meet her at the airport. (“It’s a pain in the ass,” she said over the phone. “Save yourselves the cab ride, I’ll see you at dinner.”) Lafayette seemed anxious about meeting John’s sister, had changed his outfit at least three times. Alternatively, Alex seemed sullen, busied himself on his phone and more or less ignored the flurry of activity around him. 

The restaurant they were meeting Martha at for dinner was in walking distance to their apartment, or the “cootie den” as Alex had been sarcastically calling it for the last few days. On the walk over, Lafayette insisted on stopping at a flower stand, picked out a bouquet of brightly colored tropical flowers. Alex rolled his eyes, called him a suck up. 

Lafayette whipped around so fast it practically made John’s neck snap. “Are you going to share with us what is bothering you so much, Alexander? Or are you going to continue to be sour and unpleasant? So much so that perhaps you should go back home.”

Alex stopped walking, worried a spot on the sidewalk with his toe. Mumbled something under his breath. 

“I cannot hear you,” Lafayette said, a note of impatience creeping into his voice. 

“I said, I’m acting like this because I’m worried.”

That was not the answer John was expecting at all. “Worried about what, honey?”

Alex made a small, resigned sound. Looked between both of his boyfriends. “Look. So. I don’t…. _Trust_ … Homophobic families.” 

John started to say something, but Alex held up his hand. “Let me finish. Look, back in high school, I had this boyfriend. Adam. And Adam’s parents were huge religious nutcases. Hated that he was gay. We had to sneak around and shit. It was awful. Then, he just stopped seeing me one day, dropped me. I know they got to him.”

“Honey,” John said. “You gotta know it’s not like that.”

“Well,” Alex said. “I really don’t know that. Not at all.” He chewed has bottom lip. “It’s clear that you already don’t stand up to Henry, so like. He’s clearly not gonna approve of your _lifestyle choices_ and when he tells you that?”

Where despair and hurt had been before, now John was simply angry. Did Alex think so low of him, of his feelings for the both of them, that he thought his dad could change that? Was he that weak in Alex’s eyes? John spoke slowly. “You really think that my father’s opinion could change how I feel about you? About the three of us?”

Alex shrugged. “His opinion, sure. Or you know, cutting off that nice little allowance that frees you up from having a real job.”

“You think… You think my money comes from my dad? And even if it did, you think I would take that over the two of you?” He stepped towards Alex, actually trembling from the edges of rage curling under his skin. “I love you, Alex. And no one, nothing is going to change that. I’m… I’m pretty hurt you would doubt that.”

With his lips pinched shut, Alex just shook his head. For once in his damn life, seemed without words.

“You have no more to say?” Lafayette snapped. “John has been honest and open, as have you, tells us your fears are unfounded.”

“So my feelings are invalid, basically?” Alex shot back. “I think this is an actual issue, he hid it from me for almost a year! So, forgive me for feeling like my trust is broken.”

“Yup, you’re absolutely correct, Alex, me not wanting to talk about my issues with my father in detail is an affront to you, it’s completely about you.” John always sounded so callous when he was sarcastic. He could see Lafayette watching the two of them like a tennis match, clutching the flowers, looking pained. 

“That’s not what I mean, and you know it.”

“Then what do you mean?” 

“I don’t know how else to say it. I don’t trust the influence your family has on you!” 

Like a balloon letting the air out, John deflated visibly. “So what am I supposed to do? Cut them out of my life?”

“Maybe?” Alex said sharply, making Lafayette gasp in surprise. 

Shaking his head, John zipped up his jacket, barely restrained fury hiding in the tension of his fingers, the pull of his eyes. He had to speak slow to keep his voice from trembling. “I’m done. I’m meeting my sister for dinner. You’re free to join or go home.”

“Done, huh? John Laurens’ favorite move.” 

John just blew his hair out of his face and turned on his heel, stomped off in the direction of the restaurant. 

“Are you joining us, Alexander?” Laf asked. 

“Oh, so you’re definitely on his side again, huh? Fucking great.”

“There are no sides,” Lafayette said firmly. “I am going with John. Either you come, you stay, but we are discussing this at home tonight, no excuses. Understood?”

Alex rolled his eyes, watched Lafayette break into a graceful trot to meet up with John. Muttered under his breath bitterly, then decided to follow. Going home would be giving in, and if there was one thing Alexander Hamilton didn’t do, it was give in. 

***

Martha Laurens was not what Alex expected at all. As he followed the hostess to their table, Martha’s face lit up at the sight of them. She looked sort of like John, same heart shaped face, hazel eyes, and tightly curled hair. Where John was golden and freckled, though, she was darker. Bronzed almost. Her hair a few shades shy of jet black, falling almost to her elbows. She was dressed in the bright colors of Lily Pulitzer. At the sight of her brother she lept out of her chair and dashed over to him so they could hug. 

“Oh my god, Jack!” She squealed, both of them laughing and clutching at each other.

“You’re here, Marty! You’re actually here!” John was practically bouncing on his feet he was so thrilled. Lafayette stood behind John, looking shy and unsure, while Alex hovered just a few feet away. 

“Alright, cut it out, introduce me to your boyfriends!” She flashed Lafayette and Alex a winning smile. 

“Right, of course. Marty, this is Lafayette…”

Laf immediately took Martha’s hand, brought it to his lips to kiss. Made deep eye contact while he recited his full name. “It is a delight and a pleasure to finally meet you, mademoiselle,” he lilted. “You are a vision in that dress, and I hope you find these blooms complimentary?” He presented her with the bouquet, grinning wide when she fussed over them.

“Well aren’t you the sweetest?” she hummed. “These are lovely!”

While Lafayette charmed Martha, John reached for Alex. Took his hand, in both reassurance and as a bit of a peace offering. “This is my boyfriend, Alex,” John said. Instead of shaking or kissing hands, Martha swept him into a one armed hug. 

“It is wonderful to finally meet you,” she gushed. “Sorry, it just really looked like you needed a hug?” 

The hard look on Alex’s face melted, just a little. “It’s nice to meet you too, Martha. How was your flight?”

They took their seats while Martha gestured with one hand wildly. “Ah, ya know. I love Southwest but their open seating can be such a damn free-for-all, and I always end up either next to extra chatty business guy or mom with a screaming baby.” She flicked her napkin over her lap crisply. “Or in today’s case, smack between both.”

“Fuck that noise,” John said, scowling. “You should switch airlines for your flight home, so you can at least fly first class.” 

The looks on both Martha’s and Alex’s faces were matching. Incredulous. Martha caught Alex’s eye and smirked, a spark of connection, conspiratorial kindredship blossomed between them instantly. “God, Jacky, you’re such a _snob_ sometimes,” she crowed. “First class for a two hour flight? Come on.”

“I’m just saying…”

“It is pretty snooty,” Alex pointed out, his smile showing he was mostly kidding. 

John crossed his arms over his chest. “It’s more for the space and the quiet than anything else,” he defended. 

“Well, that and the free booze,” Martha said, nodding. “Jack hates flying, he needs like half a bottle of scotch to make it through unscathed.”

Blushing furiously, John picked up his menu while Martha and Alex howled with laughter. “I didn’t realize the two of you would be ganging up on me,” he said coolly. 

“How very dare!” Martha exclaimed. Lafayette sensed the starting of an undercurrent of hurt in John’s voice, so he took his hand under the table, flashed a disarming smile at Martha. 

“Are your accommodations to your liking?” Lafayette asked, still grinning. 

Martha shrugged, took a sip from her water glass. “It’s the Plaza, so it’s perfect of course. Wanna talk about snobs, David can give Jacky dear a run for his money. In his brain, if it’s not the Plaza or the Waldorf, I might as well be sleeping in a dumpster on a pile of used crack needles.” She shook her head.

“Well, the Plaza is quite nice,” Lafayette admitted. “Not quite as lovely as some of the hotels in Paris, but I see the appeal.”

“Ugh, gosh Laf, you’re a snob too,” Alex chortled, tossed his straw wrapper at him. 

“Get used to it, mon chou, you are in love with two snobs.”

Alex clucked his tongue, shook his head. “Just my luck.”

A cloud of silence fell over the table while they all studied the menu. “Sweetie, is the place ok?” Alex teased over the silence. “They don’t have caviar crusted filet mignon topped with a lobster tail and dusted with gold flakes, or whatever it is you snobs eat.”

Lafayette and Martha both laughed, but John could feel his fingers tightening on the edge of the menu. He was caught between happiness at the fact Alex and Martha were getting along and hurt at being the butt of their jokes. Not so much at Marty, but Alex’s little jabs at him being a snob stung when he thought about the kernel of truth behind them, the words from their argument still ringing in his ears. At least Lafayette sensed his tension, squeezed his hand again and stopped laughing at Alex’s joke almost immediately. 

After they ordered, Martha pulled a gift bag out from under the table. “I actually brought the two of you something,” she said, set the bag in front of Lafayette. “A little something to welcome the two of you to the family.”

With one hand, Lafayette parted the tissue paper, lifted out the contents. A leather bound album, in deep brown, stamped with the word “Family” in bold script. Curious, Lafayette lifted the cover. John’s heart leapt into his throat.

“How precious!” Lafayette said immediately, holding up the book so Alex could see. The first photo was a full page black and white photo of John’s mother holding him as an infant. He slept peacefully on her shoulder. It was a candid, taken in a sparkling kitchen, and his mother looked so tired and beautiful, her eyes as deep as the ocean. 

The album was full of pictures of John, from infancy to teenage years. Baby John in a pumpkin costume. Naked John running from the bathtub. Toddler John playing in the sand at the beach. John on Santa’s lap. Three year old John, with newborn Martha, sitting on their parents’ laps. John with Mickey at Disney World. John on the first day of school, his backpack practically the same size of him. John fishing with his little brothers. John with his skinny arms wrapped around their family dog, a golden retriever. Twelve year old John in a hat and sunglasses, crouching near a nest of turtle eggs. Teenage John playing lacrosse. Seventeen-year old John in a suit, standing awkwardly next to a pretty blonde girl in a pink prom dress. 

His whole childhood, laid out in full color. 

Lafayette and Alex flipped through the book, cooing over every photograph, asking a million questions. “These are so gorgeous!” Alex said with genuine warmth. “And there’s so many! Who took them all?”

“Father,” Martha said quietly. Alex looked shocked. “He loves photography. Took a class when Mom was pregnant with Jack, bought a fancy camera, never stopped.” She smiled warmly, pointed out a picture of John on the block at the edge of the pool, crouched and determined. “John broke the state record that year.”

John smiled bashfully. “Father came to all my meets and games,” he remembered fondly. “Never missed a shot.” Something like a war came over his face, and he snapped the album shut.

“Thank you,” Lafayette said, placing the album into his messenger bag. “It is a lovely, thoughtful gift, one we will treasure.”

Martha waved him off. “It was nothing, really. I’m glad you like it.”

***

The rest of dinner passed without a hitch. Martha was a pro at carrying the conversation, asked Alex about his work and Laf about growing up in France. They made plans for yoga class and brunch before dress shopping the next day. Lafayette surprised her by pulling out some bridal magazines so they could leaf through them, get a sense of Martha’s style and preferences. John watched the three of bonding effortlessly, and the sight warmed him over the early spring chill. 

After they put her in a cab and started their own journey home, Alex had to admit he was wrong.

“Okay, your sister is pretty amazing,” Alex said. “I really like her.”

John just pursed his lips. Despite Martha making everyone comfortable, setting Alex at ease, John was still hurt and angered by all of things Alex had said before dinner. 

“I liked her too,” Lafayette said. “She is very kind, very funny. She did say something odd, however? When you were in the bathroom?”

“What’s that?” John snapped, suddenly nervous. 

“Shovel talk!” Alex giggled. John looked puzzled.

“She did, um, mention, perhaps that if we were to… How to say? Make you sad? That she and her fiance have ways of hurting us?”

Alex put on a feminine, southern voice. “Don’t you dare hurt my brother, ever. You break his heart, I break your legs. You make him cry, David and I know people who know people who can make you disappear.”

Lafayette looked genuinely concerned while Alex continued to laugh. “Oh my god. Ok, she was kidding, they do not know people. Damn it, Marty.” John narrowed his eyes at Alex. “Though she might not have been as chummy with you if she knew the mean shit you said to me right before.”

The look Alex’s face read shocked. “I thought we were past that?”

They were about a block away from home, and John felt a swell of anger. “Past it? _Past it?_ ” The rage was building. “You never apologized, you said some really hurtful shit, and what, it just _goes away?_ ” 

“Okay then. Well, I’m sorry,” Alex whined, not sounding sorry in the slightest. “Happy?”

Hands balled into fists, teeth clenched, John sped up his walk. He still paid the rent on his loft in Chelsea, maybe he needed to stay there for the night. It was so like Alex to think just because he made nice with Martha, and gave an empty apology, everything just went away. Was he that unimportant to him? His feelings that insignificant? And never mind Lafayette not even bothering to jump in and defend him. Perhaps he had been wrong about how much he meant to them.

John stepped to the curb like he was about to hail a cab. 

“Darling?” Lafayette said. “We are only a block from home, do you need a taxi?”

He shrugged. “I think I’m gonna go home tonight.” 

“You’re being ridiculous,” Alex hissed. 

“ _I’m_ being ridiculous?” John snapped. “You’re the one attacking me left and right, saying hurtful shit, and then just acting like it’s no big deal!”

“It’s not a big deal,” Alex implored, looking to Laf for help. “I told you, I think Martha’s cool--”

“It’s not about Martha!” John said, his voice growing louder. “You suggested my dad, and his money, might be enough to make me leave the two of you! You called me a snob, several times. I am hurt that you think so low of me, and honestly it’s making me wonder why y’all even keep me around if that’s how you feel?”

When Alex gaped like that, he looked exactly like a fish, John thought unkindly. 

“It is not how I feel,” Lafayette said softly. Went to grab his hand. “Little one, it is raining, and you do not even have your key for your old place. Please come with us, let us talk about this out of the rain. If you feel, after we talk, you still need space, you can go to your old place, yes?”

John grunted noncommittally, but let Lafayette pull him gently down the sidewalk. 

Once back home, they were barely in the door before Alex started yelling. “I admitted I was wrong!” He shouted. “I gave Martha a chance, what more do you want from me?!”

John just shook his head. “It doesn’t matter,” he said, slipped off his shoes. Headed in the direction of the bedroom, Alex and Laf in tow. 

“Um, I think it fucking matters when you continue to mope and act like a little baby about it,” Alex said scathingly. 

“I’m _not_ a baby,” John snapped. “I told you I’m hurt, but you just brushed me off.” 

“Yeah, because I think you’re overreacting.”

John inhaled sharply. “You suggested that I would leave the two of you if Father cut off my money,” he said slowly. “Like I would choose money over you. That’s a pretty shitty opinion of me.” 

“Forgive me,” Alex snarled. “It’s a pretty easy thing to picture, Mr. Flies First Class, Stays At the Plaza, gets his blood money from his homophobic father…”

“You don’t have a clue what you’re talking about.” John’s nostrils flared. “My so-called ‘blood money?’ My trust fund? Yeah, that’s from my mom. That was her money, her inheritance, she put in a trust for me. Not a fucking dime of it comes from Father.” 

Alex looked stunned, but John continued. “And even if it did, if he told me it was my money or you guys? There would be no question. I’d hand it over happily. I’d do anything, I’d work three jobs, I’d be dirt poor, I wouldn’t care. Because I love you both. And if we had each other, that’s all I would need.” John’s face crumpled. “Why can’t you see that?”

“It would not matter anyway,” said Lafayette lightly, trying to joke. “I have enough money to keep all three of us comfortable, yes?” When neither John or Alex responded, just continued looking put out, Lafayette decided it was time for him to step in. “I think it is time for the two of you to think? Apart? Time out, yes.” Alex went to protest, but Lafayette shushed him. “You are not in trouble, but I think some reflection would help all of us work through this? John, you stay in here, if you please, and Alexander, your office? No work. You are to sit and think.”

“And what, you’re gonna stay in here and comfort him, like I’m the bad guy--”

“Office. Now.” Lafayette refused to engage. He didn’t, however, remain with John. Shut both the bedroom door and the office door, then went and collapsed on the couch. Hoped fervently that some quiet time would set both of their heads straight, because honestly, it was starting to wear thin. He spent the next half hour flipping through John’s baby pictures.

*** 

John left the bedroom light off. Sat alone in the dark with this thoughts. Tried to puzzle through everything Alex had kept saying to him and about him. Like a runaway train, his fears took off. Accelerated and ignited. Why was he here? If this was the true contents of Alex’s heart, what was the point? And yeah, there was Lafayette too, but Laf and Alex were like soulmates, and he was just the third. The add on. The extra. And if it just took something like this for Alex to doubt, John was convinced Lafayette would follow his lead soon enough. 

The longer John dwelled, the more plausible it seemed. Why would Alex treat him this callously, this coldly, if there was anything other than contempt in his heart? He fought the urge to slip into his little headspace, letting his anger and frustration buoy him. The angrier he grew, it was like his veins were filled with lava. He felt his skin heating up, prickling. In a fit of rage and discomfort, he kicked off his clothes, stomped over to the window and slammed it open. Better. Flopped face back down the bed, tried to blank his mind. Instead of working, his traitorous heart supplied him with several mental images of Alex breaking up with him, Alex kicking him out, Alex shouting him down. 

Where would he go? What would he do? Would Lafayette still want to date him? Would Alex even allow that?

The door opened with a soft _snick_ , followed by heavy footsteps. John didn’t bother looking up. 

“Mon cher, it is so cold in here!” Lafayette exclaimed. “And you’re naked! Darling, are you sick? You will catch your death!”

John lifted his face, just barely. “I’m hot,” he whined. 

Hearing this, Lafayette immediately sat on the bed, swept John up into his lap, felt his forehead, his cheek, the side of his neck, checking for fever. “My love, are you alright?”

“Alex…” John began, whimpering. “Alex doesn’t… Doesn’t even like me, how can he love me?”

Lafayette looked flabbergasted. “Darling, what makes--How can you think this, say this?” His voice sounded pained. 

“All that stuff he said. That I’m spoiled, I’m selfish, I’m a snob.” John forced back the tears threatening to spill, but his bottom lip trembled. “If he wants me to go, if he’s done, does that mean you won’t want me anymore either?”

For the first time John could recall, Lafayette actually sputtered. “ _Absurdité! Non_!” He hugged John closer to him. “Alexander!” he called. “Alexander, come here _now._ ”

Like he was waiting for the call, Alex stalked into the bedroom. Upon seeing naked John curled up in Lafayette’s lap, Alex’s face twisted into something ugly. “There you go, coddling him, taking his side--”

“How many times must I say this, Alexander?” Lafayette snapped. “This is not a war, there are no sides! You keep making this about one versus the other, who is winning, you against him? We love each other, how can you forget this?”

Visibly, Alex slumped in the doorway. “Didn’t forget,” he mumbled. “I’m just frustrated.”

“Say what you mean, Alexander. It is not frustration. What is the actual root of this problem?”

Alex took a big inhale. “I already told you both. I am afraid of losing him--”

“And he says this is simply not true. Yet you continue to push, to say these things? If not to hurt John, then why?” 

“Come on, Laf.” Alex sounded pain. “You know why.”

“I am not the one you are hurting with your words right now.” He looked meaningfully at John in his lap, who had checked out slightly, stared off into space. 

Locking eyes with Laf, Alex came and sat on the bed. 

“John, my love, little one? Will you please sit up, if you will? I have something I want you to do.” Pouting, John sat up. Refused to look at either of his boyfriends. Lafayette could sense him getting close shutting down completely, so he needed to work fast. “I want you to take turns. Each say something you love about the other. John first.”

When John turned to look at him, Alex’s heart broke. John looked despaired, so sad and desperate. Alex felt a stab of guilt. Had he really done this? 

“Something I love about Alex is how smart he is, about a ton of different things.” John said this sincerity, looked at Alex with nothing but adoration. The knife twisted. 

Lafayette looked at Alex expectantly. 

“I love how generous you are,” Alex said to John. 

John accepted the compliment with a little bit of surprise, but took his turn. “You know how to make me laugh,” he told Alex. 

They went back and forth for a moment, until Alex said to John. “I love your smile. I love your patience. I love your compassion. I love how you take care of us, make our house a home. I love how much you trust us to see you, see the real you.” Once he started he couldn’t stop. “I love you from the freckles on your cheeks to the tips of your toes. I love your willingness to explore, to open up to us, try new things…” 

The more things Alex listed, the more the weight in his heart lifted, until he was overcome with emotion. He cast his anger aside, launched himself at John, tangle of limbs. Moments when Alex lost his words were rare, times when his touches and lips would have to do. For a frightening minute, Alex worried John might reject him, but his fear dissolved at his boyfriend’s familiar touch. John pulled Alex to him, let his love radiate through his skin. 

Alex wasn’t much of a crier. He tended to anger when upset, yelled and grew prickly. He wasn’t crying here, so much as just melting with the relief of it all. Hands in John’s hair, lips on his face, shoulder to shoulder, chest to chest, hip to hip. 

It was much easier to finally fall asleep with his heart set at ease.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading. I appreciate every comment and will get to replying to them as I can. I was just released from the hospital after major surgery and I am doing the best I can <3 Thank you


	3. An Outing

Chapter 3: An Outing

When John awoke the next morning, he was strangely alone. It wasn’t unusual for Alex to rise first, as he always loved to squeeze in a few hours of writing early in the day, even on the weekends. The absence of Lafayette’s warmth was jarring and unexpected, so John pulled on the nearest t-shirt he could find and padded down the hallway, looking for either of his boyfriends.

He found Alex sitting at their breakfast bar, a half eaten bagel pushed away to make room for his laptop. John went up behind him, hugged him tightly and smooshed his face into Alex’s hair, lost himself in the familiar scent. Baby shampoo, almonds, and leftover steam from what was most likely his third cup of coffee.

“Where’s Lafayette?” John asked.

“Dunno. Where’s your pants?”

John snorted a laugh. “It’s the weekend, who needs pants?”

“Well, you do if you wanna get into Kleinfelds.”

“God, can you imagine the episode of ‘Say Yes to The Dress’?” John snickered. Alex joined in with his laughter, put on a fake TV narrator voice. 

“Martha Laurens, a Southern Bell from Charleston, South Carolina, is in the big city with her brother and his two boyfriends! Will three opinions be enough to help her find the one?” 

“Think Randy will give us more attention if I don’t wear pants?”

Alex spun around on the bar stool so he could hug around John’s hips with his legs. “I think anyone who sees this cute little bottom will wanna slice no matter what.” He emphasized his point with a little pinch to one cheek. “Better keep it wrapped up. Focus is supposed to be on the bride today!”

John’s giggles were swallowed by the kiss Alex pulled him into, and it felt so good to be laughing and smooching like their arguments had never happened. 

“Ah, this is what I want to see.” The door shut behind Laf, and he set down his yoga bag by the front door. “Kissing and giggles, very nice, yes.” 

“Where have you been?” Alex whined. 

“I told you last night, mon chou. I met Martha for breakfast and yoga class?” 

John had to shake the confusion away. “You hung out with my sister without me?” He was suddenly worried about what they possibly talked about without him there to referee. 

“Your sister, she is charming. It was quite enjoyable to get to know her more? I adore her.”

The anxiety had John bouncing on his toes. Alex sensed John’s sudden discomfort and pulled him closer. “Did y’all talk about me?” he asked in a tiny little voice.

“Of course?” Lafayette said, misreading John’s face and question. “What else would we have talked about? You are at we share in common, and she tells me many stories about your childhood and--” He stopped short at the look on Alex’s face. “Ah, and we spoke about her wedding, of course.”

John continued to look mortified, so Lafayette came over and wrapped his arms around both him and Alex. “Do not worry so, mon cher, we did not talk about anything bad. I love to hear stories about baby John, you were very sweet little thing.”

Rolling his eyes, he leaned back into Laf. Hopefully the weird mix of southern colloquialisms along with her accent made the more embarrassing stories Martha told untranslatable to Lafayette. 

While lost in thought, he hardly noticed Alex drawing him impossibly closer, Lafayette’s hands migrating to his thighs. Alex’s breath in his hair. “What time’s the appointment?” he asked gruffly. His question ruffled John’s curls.

“Two,” John said all matter-of-fact, pretending to ignore Alex’s signals. He wanted to play a little hard to get, wanted them to convince and manhandle him. John wanted to feel wanted.

Lafayette picked up Alex’s game immediately though, pressed himself into John’s back. Lifted his arms so he could lace them over John’s shoulders, aware of exactly how ripe he smelled from his workout. It was an odd preference, but John loved the way Lafayette smelled, loved the tang of his sweat. Claimed to get dizzy off of it, had this weird habit of smashing his face right into Lafayette’s armpit and rutting like a puppy sniffing clover in the park.

Somehow, he resisted this time, made a half assed try to scooch away from the two of them. “Guys,” he said seriously. “It’s like 12:30, we really should be getting ready. Laf, you need a shower--”

“Excellent idea, mon petit,” Lafayette said, hoisted John into his arms. “Shall we?” he said to Alex, who followed him without question.

Occasionally, John still marvelled at certain features of their apartment, the high end space he got to call home. Their master bathroom, in addition to housing their enormous whirlpool tub and a double vanity, which stretched a good 8 feet, their walk in shower was bigger than some people’s bedrooms. White and gray marble, two rainfall overheads and a handheld shower head, built-in bench and a steam setting. Laf set John down, told him to strip while he fiddled with the water and the steam. Alex too it upon himself to light a few candles they kept on a floating shelf.

“Romantic,” John snorted. 

“I notice you are not yet naked?” Lafayette stripped off his own tank top, tossed it at the hamper in the corner. He had taken down his hair, which was already starting to frizz in the steam of the bathroom. John thought he looked adorable, shirtless and sweaty in his tight yoga pants. Desire stirred in his belly, but he felt like being petulant, wanted to see their reactions.

“So what if I am?”

Alex laughed. “Gonna be a brat, huh? Taking a page outta my book?” 

John said nothing, just pooched his lips. 

“I am unclear why either of you ever play this game,” Lafayette said evenly, slunk over to John. Stripping him was easy, considering he wore just a t-shirt and some boxers. “I always win.” When John refused to budge and step out of his boxers, Lafayette just grumbled, took hold of the waistband and yanked.

“Hey!” John cried out while Alex cackled. “Those were my favorite, softest pair of sleepy boxers!” 

“I will buy you another pair, mon chaton,” he promised, dropping the shreds of the garment into the trashcan next to the vanity. “No need to fuss.” 

“I’m not fussing,” John whined. “You ripped my favorite shorts.”

“Get in the water, Jack,” Alex coaxed, dipping his head under the water flow. “It’s nice.”

Knowing he looked naked and foolish, John just folded his arms over his chest and pouted some more. Playing this part was hard for him, but it was thrilling to witness their counterattacks. “You have three seconds to be in the shower with Alex,” Laf explained. “Or you will not like the consequences.”

“Don’t bother counting,” John snipped. “I’m not moving.”

Lafayette grinned his little wolf grin and snatched John by the arm. “Thank you for the warning, then, my dear. Come along.” He dragged him to the shower, pushed him into Alex’s waiting arms. John was reluctant to Alex’s kisses at first, but then melted into them the more pushy he got. Behind him, Laf was using the handheld to spray water down his back, following the trail of the spray with his lips, like he was drinking John’s skin. 

Alex broke the kiss, touched his lips to John’s ear. “Color?”

“Green as grass,” John said, smirking. “Y’all ain’t doin shit.” He could see why Alex bratted sometimes. This was fun.

“That so?” Alex reached around John for the bottle of lube that sat among the collection of shampoos, face cleansers, conditioners, and body washes. “Gonna fuck you, Jack. How ‘bout them apples?”

 

When John laughed he snorted some water.

“Nice try, mon chou,” Lafayette chided. “I called shotgun.”

“First of all, you didn’t call anything. Second of all, shotgun doesn’t apply to our boyfriend’s ass, even if you did. Third of all--”

“Alex,” John said firmly. Batted his eyelashes. “Alex first.” He grinned, feeling Laf tense in surprise behind him. John never denied Lafayette. “If you’re good, maybe you can have sloppy seconds?” John teased.

Hitching him closer by his hips, Laf leaned in real close. “You are going to deeply regret teasing me, making me wait, mon petit,” he said ominously. He then backed off, went to sit on the bench. “I will watch over here, then.” He gave them an appraising look. “You may continue.”

While Alex chuckled, John made a point of trying to look extra pretty against him. Touched him sensually, letting the water flow in ribbons over his wrist. Alex responded beautifully, kissed him deeply and moaned quietly, rolled their hips together. Without looking, he managed squirt some lube in his cupped hand. Slid the hand to John’s ass, probed carefully. John was still pretty new at this, always shuddered a bit at the initial intrusion but relaxed into it as soon as he remembered he was putting on a show for Laf. Sighed at Alex’s touch, nuzzled his neck.

“Baby,” John whispered. “Feels good, mmm.” And it did, the delicate way Alex fingered him while their cocks slid together, the warm water sluicing down both their bodies. Lafayette’s eyes were on them like lasers. “Ready for you,” John whined. “Ready for your cock, Papi. _Quiero que estés dentro de mi._ ”

“Christ, Jack.” Alex kissed his shoulder. “Gimme a sec, gotta loosen you up baby boy. Don’t want to hurt you.”

As Alex continued to stretch him, John snuck a look at Lafayette. He was splayed out on the bench, hand at the base of his own dick, not stroking but just watching. Drinking in every detail. Like a cat watching two birds fluttering by the window. Ready to pounce any second. John was drunk on this slight bit of power he realized he had. Sure, Lafayette was going to wreck him, but for the moment he had him under his spell. Waiting silently while Alex took care of him, nothing but the sound of the water and their breathing.

“Please,” John begged, parting his lips just to catch Lafayette’s attention. “Want you Papi, please.” 

Alex couldn’t take another second. “Here, baby doll, go ahead and turn for me?” He helped John balance, plant his feet wide, bend at the waist, hands flat on the shower wall. Parallel to Laf so he had an excellent view of both of them. 

John actually made a high squealing sound as Alex slid into him. Alex had a vise grip on his hips, and he was so hard it almost hurt. “God,” Alex breathed, voice catching. “I forget how tight you are. Jesus fuck.”

Praise always made him preen, along with Alex’s vocabulary being reduced to swear words and his name. “Pretty things,” Laf remarked from where he watched, but his eyes were dark. “Alexander, are you going to fuck him or just stand there?”

“This is my turn, jackass,” Alex sniped. “Don’t tell me how to do it.”

“You are right, of course. By all means, continue to be gentle. He will just cry harder when it is my turn.” 

That, along with the sudden snap of Alex’s hips, made John practically choke on his tongue. Alex fucked into him harder than he expected, and he almost fell. He had just enough to time to scramble for purchase against the tile, brace himself before Alex’s next thrust. 

A few more good strokes and John was whimpering. “Gonna come for me, baby?” Alex grunted. “Got two in ya this morning? One for me, one for Laf? Yeah, baby boy, just like that, you feel so tight, I love it. Perfect little fuck toy, feel so damn good.”

“Touch me.” John sounded so shivery. There was no way he could come like this, his dick in the empty, warm air. 

“I don’t think I should,” Alex teased. Shifted his angle, let the tip of his dick catch on John’s rim. Worked himself back in ambrosia slow, fingers barbed into John’s sides. “You’ve been awfully mean to Lafayette. Teasing him. Naughty boys don’t get their selfish little cocks touched. They come from getting their dirty slut holes fucked out, they come on Papi’s dick. And I know you can do it, because you’re Papi’s perfect cock slut, aren’t you?” 

John wanted to try, wanted to please Alex. He wanted Lafayette crazy with jealousy. Wanted him thirsty for him. Wanted to be caught between these two in a positive way, an object of desire. Needed a physical reminder of their devotion. With every twitch of Alex’s hips, he yearned for it, loved every second they were connected.

“I can’t, I can’t, I can’t,” John whisper-chanted. Wished he could get off on the physicality of it all, but his dick positively ached, tight from neglect. It swung between his legs, even smacked against his belly when Alex gave a particularly violent thrust. 

“Guess you’re not coming then,” Alex said venomously. “Just as well. Got no problem using you as a place to nut.” 

“He will come for me,” Lafayette said with confidence. “Get on with it, Alexander, so I can show him the correct way to do it.”

“Shut up, French Fry,” Alex griped. “Just watch, will ya?”

Lafayette grouched under his breath. If his focus hadn’t been on preparing to admonish John, he’d surely be cooking up some punishment for Alex’s disrespect. 

“Bend forward for me, baby. Think you can grab your ankles? You’re flexible, fuck. Ah, good slut.” John was bent in half now, could feel his muscles gripping Alex. He’d stopped moving for a moment to catch his breath. The fit was impossibly tight, and Alex was fit to bust any second.

“Your stamina is waning, old man,” Lafayette teased. 

“Shut up,” Alex repeated. “Wait your turn. See how long you can last in his tight...warm…” He couldn’t continue, his orgasm stole this words. Moaned as he filled John, locked their bodies together. Another few seconds to catch his breath, and Alex helped John stand, pulled out reluctantly. 

“Come here, little one,” Lafayette coaxed. He stayed sitting on the bench. “My turn.”

Unsure whether to continue to obey or tease some more, Alex nudged him forward. “Get over there, whore.” He smacked John on the ass.

Lafayette pulled John down into his lap. John tipped his head back and parted his lips, waiting for a kiss. Lafayette just laughed meanly. “Oh, now you want a kiss? Little tease. Coming over to me all sweet and cute, I can feel the mess Alexander left in you dripping out of your ass.”

“If you’re gonna fuck him, better make it quick,” Alex said, glancing at the clock. “It’s almost 1.”

“Oh, I have no intention of doing any such thing. We have an hour. I will take my time.” He plunked John into his lap, guided his dick to John’s hole with little warning. “Do you think you can make me come before the hot water runs out?” 

John was caught between how he should play the scene and what he actually wanted. On one hand, if he was sweet and pliant, Laf would most definitely give him exactly what he usually wanted, a skilled fucking accompanied by a satisfied orgasm. On the other hand, he wanted to continue to push, to see exactly what Lafayette would do. Wanted to test the boundaries of his place in the triad. 

“Mmph,” he said, twitching his hips. He wanted Laf to wreck him. “Don’t know, don’t care,” he hummed in reply. 

“I see. So you want to be naughty. This, I can work with.” Lafayette took him by the waist, held him a few inches off his lap so he could fuck up into him. It was good, John was wet and tight but he fought giving Lafayette any reactions, a jarring contrast to his usual responsiveness. The complete opposite of how he had been with Alex just moments before. Laf delivered a few well-angled thrusts up into John, attempting to elicit a reaction. John was stone, however. Refused to budge.

“Since when did you grow nerves of steel, Jack?” Alex marveled. He had taken his few minutes to bask, and was now sudsing his hair as if the scene in front of him wasn’t continuing to play out. “You haven’t even gotten him to make a peep.”

“You have been picking up some bad habits from Alexander, I see.”

Alex made an incredulous sound. “Bad habits?”

John still said nothing, just smirked. Eyelashes fluttered when Lafayette pulled him straight down onto his cock, held him still, but he still kept silent. “You are giving me a complex, little one. Making me feel like I am unable to please you.”

Reaching up into the water stream to splash some on himself, John flashed Laf another grin. To him, Lafayette looked incredible. Frustration was becoming on him, made his dark eyes burn and his jawline sharp with tension. The water drenched his curls, they hung in dripping ringlets around his face. For the first time in their relationship, he looked his actual age, several years younger than John. Something about the difficulty of the task had him looking boyish for a change. 

The flash of that was gone in an instant, the moment Laf caught John examining him. He hardened his face, shifted his weight. “It is settled. If you want to be difficult, I will treat you as such. If you want to act like Alex, I can treat you like I treat him.” At this, Alex looked fascinated, watched as Lafayette propelled himself up and off the bench, taking John with him. Pinned him against the wall, supporting his weight with one arm and trapping his shoulder to the wall. “You are usually so sweet and well-behaved, but you want to act out. You want to be fucked and used, I can do that.” 

John squirmed in place, made a small noise of surprise, which was quickly knocked out of him when Lafayette made good on his promise and plunged into him, deep. He was pinned in place, by Lafayette’s hands, by his body, by his _dick_ , by the wall, and John wasn’t certain how he felt about it. The physical sensations were excellent of course, his body stretching around Lafayette. He still got a little thrill from the novelty of having one of his boyfriends inside of him, the closeness of it all. This was far from the usual way Lafayette fucked him, however. Where he was usually reverent, delicate, and so attuned to John’s pleasure, here he was suddenly selfish. And not being rough as a means for John’s enjoyment, but for his own. There was brute strength in how he held John, how he slammed into him, over and over, his hips like an engine. 

“Laf,” John panted, tried to meet him in a thrust, was trapped. “Laf, please.”

“What are you asking for?” Lafayette gritted, didn’t even slow his strokes. 

“Want… I want…” John knocked his head back into the tile, squinched his eyes shut. 

Finally, his hips stilled, he buried himself as deep as he fit. Still hard, he wasn’t coming, but took the pause as a chance to nip at John’s ear. “I generally do not take requests from little boys wanting to be used. Little slut.”

John scrabbled at Laf’s back, clawed at him, dug his heels into the meat of Lafayette’s ass. Arched against the shower wall, hoped his body could say where words failed him. Lafayette was using him, and he liked it, liked it more than he cared to admit. 

“Get on with it, Laf,” Alex said through a yawn. “We got somewhere to be.”

“Yes, you are correct,” and Laf drove himself in a few more times and his body tightened, he dug his teeth into John’s collarbone as he came, sighing in relief. Then Laf was setting him on his feet, pulling away. John tried to follow, but Alex put a hand to his chest, stopped him.

“Turn around, show us,” Alex said quickly, snapped his fingers impatiently. Blushing, and still obnoxiously hard, John turned in place. Alex landed an open handed smack right on his ass, the skin of his cheek snapping painfully under the water. “Look at this little whore. Two loads of cum dripping out of his ass, and he’s still hard. Still desperate.” Voice razor sharp, another slap to his ass. “So stretched… Wonder if you’ll ever even tighten back up. Of course, that’s what you want, wanna be gaping and ready for dick at any time.” Now Alex’s fingernails in his ass, sharp. 

John looked over his shoulder, saw Lafayette watching the two of them with complete indifference, scrubbing himself with his bath poof. “You make an excellent point, Alexander.” He rinsed the rest of the suds off, slid the shower door open. “I will be right back. Mon chou, our little whore cannot attend our outing with his little cock all hard like that. Please attend to him?” And with that he disappeared. 

“You heard him,” Alex sighed, as if it pained him. “Gotta take care of this.” He took hold of John’s erection, yanked cruelly. “Good thing I like the way you taste.” It sounded like an insult, and John fought to stay mentally present. The sight of Alex on his knees in front of him stole his breath. He grounded himself by petting tentatively at Alex’s hair, rubbed his ear. 

“None of that,” Alex hissed. “Hands on the wall. Don’t touch me.” He bit right into John’s thigh, making him yelp in surprise. While John recovered, Alex took the opportunity to suck him down, went right for the deep throat. It was next to impossible to keep his hands on the wall, John so badly wanted to grab him by the hair and face fuck him, but also knew to obey when Alex got mean. 

“Alex, baby girl, oh my god…” He struggled to find a way to show, to tell Alex how good what he was doing felt. And Alex doing that trick with his tongue, playing with his balls… Ah, well he guessed the best way to show his appreciation. “I’m close, baby, I’m about to come.” Alex just sucked harder. 

The shower door slid back open while Alex leaned back and swallowed every drop John gave him. John was half dizzy now, from coming so hard, from the steam. He saw what was in Laf’s hand and his knees buckled. 

“I thought it might be… Prudent… For our little toy to be ready and open to be used upon our return.” Lafayette brandished the plug, making John shiver. 

“Darling,” Alex complimented. Seized John around the waist. “I love the way you think.”

***

There was something extremely decadent about walking into Kleinfelds, his ass stuffed with the plug. With every step on the rose colored carpet, he had to fight the urge to wince. Surrounded by wedding gowns that cost more than the average car and yet under his clothes, he felt so naughty. The contrast was driving him insane, the brides with their entourages, clinking champagne glasses and fawning over each other. And here he was, holding Alex’s hand and the plug making him feel chastened. 

Martha was already there, sipping her own flute of champagne and looking impatient. 

“About time,” she snapped at John. 

“What? We’re on time!”

Martha rolled her eyes. “If you’re not early, you’re late,” she drawled, repeating one of their father’s favorite isms. Like he needed to be thinking about Henry with ass full of cum and silicone. 

“Our apologies, Martha. But we are here now, and very eager to start?” 

Martha beamed at Lafayette, drowned the rest of her champagne and turned to the thin blonde seemingly waiting for them. As they walked to their dressing area, the consultant launched into what sounded like a diatribe in a foreign language, one that Martha and Lafayette understood. John caught phrases like “bustles” and “mermaid flare” and “a-line skirt.” 

“It’s amazing how expansive his vocabulary becomes when talking about something like wedding dresses,” Alex mused, smirking at John. John smiled back. Honestly, it was so hard to focus with the plug shifting with every step. 

Thankfully, they got to sit on a horrible couch in pastel florals while the consultant pulled dresses for Martha to try. After the initial shock of the dig of the plug, sitting was much easier. Lafayette stole a look at him, his eyes slanted and dark with meaning. He tamped the look down in a blink, turned back to Martha.

“Tell us more about your wedding’s aesthetic. Colors and theme, perhaps? That will help ups when viewing your choices.”

Martha tossed her hair, gave John a disparaging look. She knew something was up. Panic flashed through John, but she answered Lafayette’s question. 

“So. Our color palette is navy, blush, dove gray with pastel accents. We don’t have a theme exactly, more like… A guiding vision. Preppy coastal?”

“What are the bridesmaids wearing?” Lafayette had worn his glasses, peered over them from where he was studying a copy of _Martha Stewart Weddings_. 

Martha shrugged. “I told them to pick their own dresses from J. Crew. Silk chiffon, either rose or gray.”

Lafayette looked momentarily scandalized. “You are letting them pick?!”

“Honey, it’s J. Crew,” John said softly. “It will look cohesive and classy.” Marty smiled at John, almost gratefully. 

“Ah, yes, darling, J. Crew. Absolutely corking,” Alex drawled. Lafayette glared at him, and John hoped Marty didn’t catch the sarcasm in his voice. 

“Honestly, I have so many traumatic memories of horribly, matchy bridesmaid dresses, that you wear once and hide. At least this way, they can pick something they like. I dunno.” She looked suddenly self conscious. “Was it the wrong decision?”

“No,” Lafayette said quickly. “We just have to be careful. We do not want your silhouette to compete or be too close. It should stand out but still look like part of the overall vision.”

Right then, Alex decided to pinch at John’s backside, making him jolt and the plug press in at a new angle. He squeaked and Alex stifled a giggle, drawing another glare from Lafayette. “Do you have another opinion you need to share?” He snapped at John this time, mistakenly interpreting his reaction. 

“No,” John said slowly, slanting his eyes at Alex. “Please continue, babe.”

Martha looked between the three of them suspiciously, looked like she wanted to say something, but thankfully the consultant knocked on the door to their little room, whisked her away without so much as a glance at the trio.

“Come here,” Lafayette said firmly as soon as the door was shut. Set his magazine down. “Come here now. Naughty boy.”

“Whaaaat?” John whined, while Alex leered triumphantly. “Alex pinched me, I didn’t mean--”

“You are very bad,” Lafayette said, pulled John into his lap. “You are making me look like I do not know what I am talking about in front of Martha.” 

“I didn’t mean to laugh, I’m sorry,” John said. “But Alex pinched me, made the plug move.”

Lafayette shushed him, wrapped his arms around John’s waist. “Did it perhaps move like this?” Laf murmured, jostled his leg in such a way that pressed on the base of the plug, making John squirm and pant. The tip of nicked at his prostate, just deep enough to make him see white. “This toy is not here for your fun, Jacky. It is here to keep our cum in, remind you exactly of who you belong to, remind you that you were naughty. It is a punishment, little one.”

Alex cackled from where he sat across from them on the couch, drawing Lafayette’s intense gaze on him. “If I were you, mon chou, I may stop being excessively mean to John.” 

“It’s not excessive,” Alex whined. John had that spacey look on his face, making Alex grin some more. “I am helping with his punishment.” 

“We do not laugh at someone being punished,” Lafayette countered. “Taunt and tease, yes.” As if to prove his point, he squeezed John around the waist, kissed the side of his head. “But to laugh at is very mean spirited.” 

“Can we maybe just, um… Uh… Lay off both? Before I have to leave Kleinfelds because of a personal issue?” John begged, made eyes at Lafayette. “I’ll be good, I’ll be so good when we get home, whatever you both want just…” He dropped his voice. “Please don’t make me come in my pants.”

“Color?” Lafayette’s breath was hot in his ear. 

“I am at green but…” Nuzzled back against Laf. “Please don’t make me beg.”

Lafayette seemed greatly pleased by how pliant and sweet John was being, and Alex rolled his eyes so hard it looked like it hurt. “Oh, I think there will be much begging,” Lafayette said. “But we, of course, will wait until we return home. Now, sweet thing, go sit with Alexander. Be good for me, yes?”

As soon as John was settled back on the couch, looking as composed as possible, the consultant knocked on the door. “Martha is ready to show you her first gown!” she chirped.

John pulled himself together so he could follow Lafayette and Alex out into the area they had for brides to model their selections. 

Martha's first dress was interesting. It was ice white, sweetheart neckline with crystal embellishments on the bodice, a ball gown skirt in tulle. It looked great because Martha was pretty, had a cute figure and beautiful face, but John still wrinkled his nose.

“It’s a Pnina,” the consultant said, standing behind Martha so she could fluff out the skirt. “Thoughts?”

Martha scrutinized herself in the mirror. Alex and Lafayette watched thoughtfully, Alex looking gobsmacked and Lafayette like he wanted to say something. Martha turned to them. “Guys? Your silence is making me think I look horrible.”

“No way!” Alex shot in while Laf tutted. 

“It is a lovely gown on a lovely girl,” Laf said slowly, choosing his words carefully. The consultant glared at him like he had insulted the dress.

“It’s not right,” John said. “Too flashy. Not you at all.”

Catching John’s eye in the mirror, Martha smirked. “My older brother, always the wise one,” she said. “Next.”

The consultant led her back to the fitting areas while the boys were left to wait again. “So gaudy,” John grumbled. “She needs something classic.”

“Well, it is a Pnina,” Lafayette said as if this made any sense to other two. “The designer. Very stylish, very expensive,” he further explained. Honestly, John thought it was kinda ugly, but didn’t want to say anything and incur any more punishments.

Apparently taking wedding gowns on and off was a time consuming activity, and they were left to their own devices for another 15 minutes. At least they were out in the open, thought John. No more torment in private.

The second gown was better but not by much. Satin, ruched fit and flare with a halter top. John asked Martha if her wedding was salsa themed which made her roar with laughter and consultant glare. Third dress a simple ball gown in sparkly tulle, princessy. Pretty, but still not quite right. The fourth dress was a sheath with a lace overlay, gorgeous, but Martha took one look at herself and said she looked like “grandma’s table cloth.” 

Lafayette pulled out his worn copy of Martha Stewart Weddings, showed the consultant a dress he had earmarked. She smiled, went to go pull something similar. 

This time when Martha walked out, John’s breath actually hitched. It was another ball gown, this time with tapered layers of tulle. A sash in blush pink tied in the back. It was frothy and romantic, and Martha’s face lit up as she looked in the mirror. 

“Jack?” she asked. “What do you think?”

“Honestly?” John was nervous at how Alex and Laf were watching him. “You look like Mom.” And when he said it, he felt his nose burn, tears pricking the corners of his eyes. 

“Really?” Martha asked, and her voice warbled. “Gosh. I love it.”

This was what their consultant had been waiting for. She reappeared with a veil, some jewelry. Piled on the accessories, and Martha was a vision, staring at herself in the mirror in disbelief. John still felt emotional, sniffled back the tears in his eyes. Alex had somehow migrated closer, took his hand. Gave it a reassuring squeeze.

“Is this the one?” Asked the consultant. Martha smiled, nodded.

“Yes!” She said, laughing. “This is it!”

The consultant rang a little silver bell and everyone in the salon applauded. John could see how bad Alex wanted to roll his eyes, was grateful he kept it at bay.

Martha was whisked away to change and discuss payment. 

“Are you okay, little one?” Lafayette asked. Luckily, they were permitted to wait now up front, not in the stuffy back rooms. 

“Yeah,” John said. “Just… Miss my mom. She should be here for this.” He realized with a start that both of his boyfriends knew this feeling exactly, acutely. Lost boys without mothers, he thought absurdly. It sounded kind of emo, but it was true. John suddenly realized he longed for the arms of a caretaker, the non judgemental, unconditional love like that of his mom. He wanted to crawl into Lafayette’s lap, hug Pokey to his chest, and be sung a lullaby. Maybe drink some juice. 

Instead, he let Alex kiss his cheek while they waited for Martha to reemerge.

***

The rest of the afternoon was torment for John. Of course they had to go celebrate, cocktails at a hip bar followed by dinner at a slightly touristy Italian place. As Lafayette ordered another round, or contemplated dessert, or kept the conversation going, he kept sneaking glances at John, waiting to see if he would crack. And for what was worth, every time John thought he adjusted to sensations of the plug, he would shift and the feelings would spark again. And every time, Alex and Laf would eye him with interest. 

Finally. FINALLY. They were home. It was past 8, way longer than John wanted to be wearing the plug. They were just a few steps into the door and John dropped to his knees, looked up at Lafayette. Alex made a sound of delight.

“Please sir,” John demurred. “I was good all afternoon.” Smirking at Alex, Lafayette went to John. Stood right in front of him. Without thinking, John nosed at Laf’s crotch, rutted against his leg. 

“This,” Lafayette said silkily. “Is something I can get used to.”

John peered up at him with puppy eyes, awaited his next move.


	4. An Invitation

** Chapter 4: An Invitation **

The save-the-date had been magneted to the front of the fridge since April, a tasteful postcard with a gorgeous photo of Martha and David at the botanical gardens taken during their professional engagement shoot. They both looked fresh, youthful, in love. 

_October 11th 2014, Charleston, North Carolina. Formal Invitation to follow._

Alex had ran his fingers over the embossed lettering, stuck the thing on its place of honor on the fridge. Said nothing.

Spring passed, summer came and went, then came back. Lingered. Their relationship flourished, green and lush. Most things worked, a few didn’t. Living together turned out to be a grand adventure at first, which soon melted into the mundane, the familiar, which John loved. He loved making coffee for Alex in the morning. He loved doing laundry with Lafayette on Saturday afternoons. He loved swimming for an hour after work to come home to Laf and Alex making dinner. Living with the two of them meant dealing with Alex’s workaholic tendencies and Lafayette’s insanely high sex drive. It meant going to bed happy and waking up there too. Never, in his 27 years on earth, had John ever felt really truly home. 

Of course, Martha followed wedding etiquette to a fault, and the formal invitation arrived in their mailbox exactly eight weeks before the wedding date. 

“Mr. John Laurens, Mr. Alexander Hamilton, and Mr. Gilbert du Motier, Marquis de Lafayette,” Alex read, rolling his eyes at Laf’s formal name and title. “Your sister has pretty handwriting.” He was holding the inner envelope, creamy linen paper addressed in black calligraphy. 

It was John’s turn to roll his eyes. “Martha can’t do calligraphy. She hired someone.” 

Lafayette nodded but Alex’s jaw dropped. “She paid someone to write on the envelopes?” He now held the invitation like it was a piece of glass. “That seems excessive.”

John said nothing, as weddings weren’t really his wheelhouse, but he also didn’t see the harm in paying someone who was basically an artist to do such a task. “I think it is standard practice,” Lafayette said slowly. “It looks much more… Stylish and formal than those tacky little labels.”

Alex still looked mortified, handed the envelope to John. He opened it carefully, Laf peering over his shoulder. The invitation itself as a work of art, engraved on thick paper so soft it was almost velvety, the coloring in navy and soft gray. 

_Senator Henry Laurens requests the honor of your presence at the marriage of his daughter Martha Lenore to David Benjamin. Saturday, the eleventh of October, two thousand and fourteen at four o’clock in the afternoon._

While Alex scoffed silently, Lafayette fawned over the invitation. “Martha, she has impeccable taste, these invitations are so lovely, so thoughtful,” and on and on, John tuned him out because he was watching Alex and the pinched look on his face.

“Don’t send the RSVP card yet,” Alex finally said. “I need to talk to Washington for time off.”

“But it is a weekend!” Lafayette sounded horrified.

“Yeah, but John’s gotta be there early for like, rehearsal and stuff and you know, travel…” Alex trailed off. It was true, John was standing up on Martha’s side, was doing a reading from Corinthians and everything. 

“That is fine,” Laf said. “Mr. Washington will give you time off, our boyfriend’s sister’s wedding is very important. Just ask. We must respond soon.”

***

A week passed. “Have you spoken to Mr. Washington yet?” Lafayette glared at Alex across the dinner table. “We must book our flights soon, they will go up in price if we wait too long.”

Alex shook his head. “Sorry, I’ll… I’ll take care of it.”

***

One night, Alex came in and set his bag down louder than normal. John’s ears pricked up. The energy around Alex was similar to when they had their fight back in March, back when Alex found out about Henry. He was restless. Angry.

As soon as he sat down at the table to the dinner John had cooked (pan-fried cod with roasted vegetables), he started talking.

“I’m sorry John, I just don’t think I can do it. I can’t go to South Carolina. I love you, I really like Martha, but I know it will be bad for… Bad for us if I force myself and I think it’s best if I just skip the whole thing. It makes the most sense. I hope you won’t be too upset with me, but I just really think--”

“You are not going?” Lafayette interrupted. “You do not want to see the wedding? Meet John’s family? See his home?”

Alex looked pained. “Like I said. I just... I can’t. I don’t trust myself to remain civil, to not say something that would make everything awkward and horrible. It’s a world I don’t belong in, and I can’t just sit there and eat hors d’oeuvres and a thousand dollar cake knowing it’s been paid for by _him_ and I really like your sister and don’t want to put a damper on the festivities.”

When Alex paused to actually breathe, Lafayette still looking puzzled, John reached over and took his hand.

“While I’m sad you won’t be joining us,” John said slowly. “I respect your choice.”

“Really?” Alex sounded genuinely surprised. “I was… I feel… I know going home isn’t always easy for you, and I do want to be there for you, but I just worry it will do more harm than good.”

John nodded. “Yeah. Like... I get it. And a wedding is already so much pressure. Plus, while going home can suck… Laf will be with me. Right?”

Immediately, Lafayette got his bearings and smiled. “Of course. I am looking forward to this trip, to the wedding and of course meeting your family. It will be a wonderful time.”

Later, when Laf was loading the dishwasher:

“I think it’s smart for your family to meet Lafayette first,” Alex said quietly. “He’s pretty charming, good gateway into… Um--” He gestured with swooping hand motions. “This.” 

“You can be pretty charming yourself, you know,” John returned. Pulled Alex into his lap. “I love both of you, want everyone to know both of you.” 

“Yeah?” Alex smirked. “That’s really--really sweet.”

John shrugged. “Not sweet. True. But I respect your decision to stay. Just know… I’m not ashamed of you, I don’t want to hide you. You’re welcome when you’re ready. Kay?”

Nodding, Alex leaned in for a kiss. “Yeah. That’s… That’s perfect.”

They fucked quick and quiet that night, Alex insisted on riding both of them in turn. When they lay in bed, Alex with his book in hand, Laf with his iPad, John snuggled between them. Lafayette scrolled through flights, had a tab open with hotels. 

“Don’t bother with that,” John said, pointing to where Lafayette was reading the reviews on Charleston bed and breakfast. “We’re staying at my house.”

Lafayette looked surprised, but closed the tab without question. “Oh? There is room?” 

“Duh. My room is still my room.” 

“Ohhh!” Lafayette looked interested now.

Alex set his book down. “Ok. Now I’m jealous. Laf’s going to get to fuck you in your room?” 

John rolled his eyes. “Stop. That’s weird.”

“Did you ever sneak any secret lovers up there?” Lafayette asked so seriously, John burst out laughing. 

“In the House of Sexual Repression?” John snorted. “No. Never. And I don’t plan on it.”

Lafayette made a pained sound of disappointment while Alex whooped with laughter. “A whole weekend without sex? Laf will actually die.”

“He just say we cannot do it in the house,” Laf pointed out. “I am sure we have ways of getting creative, yes?”

Burying his face in Lafayette’s shoulder, John giggled. “We’ll see.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If yall are nice I will totally post chapter 5 today because this one is so short (and doesn't have art to go with it) 
> 
>  
> 
> I love you so much thank you for your support. I'm sorry I'm too feeling crummy/high on pain killers to really respond to comments quick enough just know I do read them and love them and love all of you!


	5. A Homecoming

Chapter 5: A Homecoming

John couldn’t shake the hangdog look Alex had given them in the lobby of JFK, looking put out and pathetic. 

“You’re both coming back, right?” he asked, only half joking.

“Nope. I am stealing your boyfriend. We are running away forever. Sorry.” John smiled through his own sarcasm. 

“Technically, if you didn’t come back, you’d be stealing two boyfriends.” Alex nuzzled his neck. “And that’s doubly bad.”

“Stop this,” Lafayette said soothingly. “We will be back Monday morning. You have many plans for fun this weekend, correct?” 

Alex considered. “Yeah. Going out with Peggy tomorrow night, brunch with Herc Saturday, seeing Angelica Sunday.” Perked up considerably as he listed off his plans. 

“See? You won’t even miss us,” John said. Kissed the top of his head.

“Yeah. Right.”

They said an embarrassingly intimate good-bye, lots of deep kissing and prolonged hugging, drawing the attention of a few other travelers John figured were puzzling through their relationship to each other. And now he stood at the gate, waiting on Lafayette to return with their Starbucks order while he texted with Martha and Henry Jr. Apparently the household was in a tizzy over John bringing home one of his boyfriends. The first romantic partner he had brought home to meet Father. 

Lafayette was back at his side just before they began calling for first class passengers to board. John offered him a shaky smile, accepted his latte gratefully. 

“You are quiet. Are you alright?”

John shrugged as he sipped his coffee, joined the line to board. So far, traveling with Lafayette was very nice. He carried John’s backpack for him, fetched coffee and held his hand. “Just nervous... The flight. You meeting my family.” 

“Do not be worried, little one. I am here for the flight, you are safe. And as for your family, they will like me very much. It is impossible to dislike me.”

At this, John had to laugh. It didn’t sound cocky because it was so damn true. He took his boyfriend’s hand, let him lead them to their seats.

*** 

Arrivals. Baggage claim. Rental car counter. John signed off on the vehicle, tried not to laugh because not only was Lafayette not old enough to rent a car, but he couldn’t drive anyhow. Just as well, he knew these roads too well. 

Forest green Range Rover. Lafayette piled their bags into the back. “It is very bright here,” he remarked. “Even for fall!”

“Charleston,” John said simply. “Summers are long here.”

From the car, they called Alex on speaker phone. Told him about the flight, listened to him bitch about fending for himself for dinner. Lafayette told him how much he loved him, John echoing the sentiment, then said he wanted to get off the phone so he could look out the open window.

“The ocean!” Lafayette gasped with child-like glee. “I like this!”

“Me too,” John said. 

***

They sat in the driveway. John took a few shaky breaths. Winding drive, lined with magnolia trees and palms. The home of his childhood, a gabled mansion with stained glass and balconies, wrap around porch and mahogany doors. 

“Ready?” he whispered. He was talking more to himself.

“Your home is lovely,” Lafayette said.

“I know. Let’s… Let’s do this.”

Took Lafayette’s hand, bone crushing squeeze. Pushed open one heavy door. 

“Jacky’s here!” Jemmy screeched, sliding into the foyer in socked feet. He was probably hopped up on Mountain Dew. “Jacky’s here with his boooooooyfriend!”

“Jack!” Martha came peeling out of the kitchen, her hair a messy cloud around her face and her eyes wide. She crashed into him, hugged him tight. “Oh, Jack! Laf! I am so glad you’re here!”

Jemmy continued to dance around them in excitement. 

Lafayette stood taking in the scene in awe, the sweeping foyer, Jemmy’s energy and Martha’s anxiety.

“You okay, sis?” John asked. She laughed nervously. 

“So much to do,” she sighed. Clasped Laf in a hug next. “Welcome to our home, Lafayette. Come in.”

“This is Jemmy,” John said, gripping his brother by the shoulder. He winced in over reaction, but still smiled. “Jemmy, this is my boyfriend Lafayette.”

Jemmy stuck out his hand to shake. “Lafayette, cool name. Damn, you’re tall.”

“Language!” John snapped, while Martha just laughed. 

“I am so sorry, Laf, it’s a madhouse in here,” she said, shaking her head.

“Father said to wait for you guys for dinner, that we can probably go get Mellow Mushroom, please say we can,” Jemmy whined. Just then, Henry Jr. appeared in the hall, gave Lafayette a surprised once over. 

“Hey Jack, you made it,” Henry Jr said. Came over to hug John, shake Laf’s hand. “Nice to meet you, you’re Lafayette, right?” He looked at Martha for confirmation.

“I am,” Lafayette said, grinning. “And you are Henry Jr.?” 

“Yup. So glad you’re here.” Henry Jr. turned to Martha, lowered his voice. “Father’s in his study, caterer just called? Or some shit? Who knows, but he’s pissed.”

“Fucking hell,” Martha cursed. “It’s probably about those damned stuffed mushrooms, I told him snow crab was fine, but he’s bitching about king crab, it honestly makes no difference.” 

Henry Jr. snorted, shook his head. “I’m sure he’ll be ready to receive his guests in a minute.”

Lafayette looked suddenly slightly nervous. “Is there perhaps a washroom, so I can… Um… Wash my hands?” He added something quietly to himself in French. Martha pointed him to the powder room down the hall. As soon as he was out of sight, John’s brothers laid into him.

“Ok, like I’m not gay or anything, but even I can see your boyfriend is fine,” Henry Jr. said. “Honestly didn’t know you had it in you, Jacky.” 

“Shut up, Junior, seriously Jacky I want to go to Mellow Mushroom, I really think Lafayette will like it, can we please?”

“Do you think people will be able to tell the difference between the snow and king crab? I only worry because the menus are already printed, and I see why Father might be concerned--”

“Oh, and after Mellow Mushroom we can go get soft serve, that would be so much fun! I bet Lafayette likes soft serve too!”

John took a deep breath. “Jemmy. Mellow Mushroom sounds great, so does soft serve, you don’t have to pretend you’re trying to impress Laf when I know you’re just hungry. Martha, no one can differentiate between the crab, it’s fine. Henry Jr., I’m going to take what you said as a compliment and move it along. Are we all good?”

Lafayette had returned from the powder room, watching John address his siblings. A sort of… Solid persona Laf had never seen. It made him smile, feel warm, to see him settle them down like that. It kind of made sense to him why John often sought to be nurtured himself. Was this a role he played when he lived at home?

“Jack?” A deep voice called down the hall. Not yelling exactly, but forceful. 

“Here we go,” John muttered. Went to Laf, grabbed him by the elbow. “Coming, Father,” he called back. 

Henry’s study was the perfect ode to bygone masculinity. Done in warm woods, bottle green accents. Bookshelves, ships in bottles, a globe. Even though it was almost seventy degrees outside, Henry had a fire roaring in the grate. He sat in his chair, fumbling with his phone. Rose to his feet as soon as John appeared in the doorway, clinging to Laf with one hand. 

“Son,” he said rigidly. “Welcome home.” He gave Lafayette the once over, taking in his expensively tailored clothes, his shiny shoes, his slightly rumpled hair, and of course his winning smile. “Are you going to introduce me to your friend?”

“My boyfriend,” John said through gritted teeth. “Father, this is my boyfriend, Gilbert du Motier, Marquis de Lafayette.”

Laf immediately strode forward, held out his hand. “Sir, it is a pleasure and honor to meet you,” he said in the exact right tone, formal but warm. “Thank you for welcoming me into your home. Your house is lovely.”

“Pleasure’s all mine,” Henry said stiffly. He glanced between John and Laf, still feeling out the situation. “First time in Charleston?”

“Oh, yes. Of course, I grew up in Paris, have lived in New York since college. I am thrilled to visit, I am very interested in history and Charleston has so much to offer.”

Henry perked up at this. “Is that so? There’s even history in this house, built in the ‘20s.”

“Perhaps after dinner, if you are not too busy with wedding preparations, I would love a tour?” John struggled to keep a straight face, then was shocked to see his father nodding.

“That would be fine,” he said simply. He turned to John. “Will you take your brothers to Mellow Mushroom? For godsake, Jemmy won’t shut up about it.”

“We can do that.”

“Oh, you will not be joining us?” Laf asked, sounding disappointed. 

“Unfortunately, no, Marty and I have to work on the seating chart.”

“Do you want us to bring you back something?” John asked. This was going all too well, way better than he ever hoped, and he wanted to keep the spell going. A peace offering in the form of a pizza. 

“Yeah, just… I’ll text you.” He looked at Lafayette. “Good talking to you both.” A clear dismissal. John tried not hurry out of the study. 

“How did I do?” Lafayette whispered in the abandoned hallway. “Did I do well?”

John giggled breathlessly, stole a quick kiss. It felt so forbidden, so good to kiss Lafayette in the familiar corridors of his home. “You were perfect. Better than perfect.”

“Good.” Laf pulled him closer. Nuzzled his hair. “I can tell your Father frightens you. Why is this so?”

“Later,” John begged. “I’ll tell you later. Come on, we gotta take Jemmy and Henry Jr to Mellow Mushroom.”

“Charleston is very strange,” Lafayette said. “To have a restaurant dedicated to mushrooms.”

***

Mellow Mushroom was actually a pizza place, a bustling cozy spot near the boardwalk done up in psychedelic decor, kitschy and colorful. Over two large pizzas, one pepperoni, one cheese, Lafayette carried the conversation very well with John’s brothers. Asked them about school and sports, answered their questions about growing up in France. Henry Jr. talked at length about finishing his early college applications, to Duke and Vanderbilt and Clemson and Emory. John had to grind his teeth, knew Henry Jr. could go anywhere he wanted, but of course had to limit his choices to Henry approved colleges. 

Even though it was October, the evening was pleasant enough to drive out to the pier. They ordered waffle cones full of soft serve. Henry Jr. and Jemmy scarfed theirs in record time, started tossing a frisbee around right on the waves. Laf sprawled on a nearby bench, coaxed John to curl up under his arm.

“This town is very gorgeous, very nice to grow up?” John could hear in Laf’s voice the invitation to tell him more, to finally explain Henry in full. 

“There was some stuff that’s nice about it,” John agreed. Watched Jemmy kick off his shoes and hike up his pants so he could chase after the frisbee where it landed in the surf. 

Lafayette squeezed him a little closer, a barrier against the breeze. “Will you tell me now about the not as nice parts? Why you are so nervous around your Father?”

There was no avoiding it now. John sighed, took another slurp of his ice cream. Chocolate vanilla soft serve swirl with chocolate sprinkles. Considered exactly how much he could get away with telling him. He hated to make Lafayette worry, and he didn’t want to bias Laf against Father. Things were going well so far. It would be just like him and his stupid oversensitivity to ruin the mood, fuck things up.

“It’s not really anything, I guess,” John said slowly. “Nothing major. Father was just very strict growing up. And was pretty… Ugh… Shocked when I came out as gay. And it was kinda hard for him to deal with. He’s getting better now, though.”

Lafayette made a sympathetic sound in the back of his throat. “It must have been--must still be--painful if he does not fully accept you?”

“Eh. It is what it is. Father loves me, loves all of us. He shows it in lots of ways. He’s just from a different time, and his religion…” John trailed off. “He’s still getting used to the gay thing. Meeting you is a huge step for him.”

Weighty silence. John cuddled a little closer, nibbled at the edge of his waffle cone. Jemmy and Henry Jr. had abandoned their frisbee game, were wading in the waves, heads turned down and feet shuffling. 

“If that is so, I will continue to charm him. You are…” Laf paused, took a breath. “You are so important to me, little one. My treasure, my heart. I love you, will do anything to make it so, show you this every way I can.”

John tipped his head back, caught Laf looking at him instead of the ocean. Wind and salt in his hair. Kissed the underside of his jaw. 

“Jacky and Lafayette, sitting in a treeeee, K-I-S-S-I…”

“Jemmy, shut up, what are you, five?” 

The boys had returned. Jemmy held his hands cupped, nodded for Laf to hold out his hand.

“Brought you something, Laf,” he said. “Harder to find this time of year, but I got it.”

Looking wary, Laf let Jemmy dump the contents of his hands into his palm. Three seashells, cylindrical and topped with a whirl, cream colored with tan speckles. “Oh!” Laf exclaimed. “How wonderful! Pretty!”

“Lettered olives!” Jemmy said. “Jack used to have a huge collection of shells. These were his favorite. Thought maybe you’d wanna see?”

Lafayette looked to the shells, to John, back to Jemmy. “Thank you, Jemmy. I will treasure these.” Delicately, Laf pocketed the shells. Jemmy grinned, looked bashful for a second. Henry Jr. rolled his eyes.

“Ready to head back?” Henry Jr. sighed. “Dad texted me, reminded me curfew is 9.”

John bit his tongue again. As they tramped back to the Range Rover, he was grateful Lafayette didn’t ask what happened to his seashell collection.

***

Upon return, John and Laf lugged their bags out of the Range Rover. Henry must have heard them coming, met them in the front hall.

“I appreciate you two taking the boys to dinner,” he said slowly. “I have cash to cover the bill?” 

John waved him off. “Nah, it’s fine. It was nothing.”

Henry shrugged, put his wallet away. “Sometimes forget you’re all grown up, Jacky.” He eyed their bags, Lafayette standing there grinning. “When y’all are ready to turn in, I had Della make up the guest room for Lafayette.”

John looked up sharply. “Guest room?” He snapped. “What’s wrong with my room? You didn’t turn it into an office or something?”

Looking halfway between awkward and confrontational, Henry shuffled his feet before assuming a squared off posture. “House rules, son. Only married couples share beds under this roof.”

“You cannot be serious,” John said slowly. “I _live_ with Laf. And Alex. We share a bed every night. So what if we’re not married?”

“My house,” Henry said, just as slowly. “My rules.”

Eyes narrowing, John hoisted his bag onto his hip. “You are being unreasonable, Father,” he whined in a petulant tone Lafayette had never heard before. “Are you that disgusted by gay sex you don’t even want to run the risk of it--”

“Watch your tone, young man.”

“--Happening in the walls of your fucking castle--”

“Language!”

“Like I would even want to have sex in this stupid house anyway!” John’s volume grew. “Come on, Laf, let me show you to your guest room!” He said this with such scathing venom, Laf actually flinched. He stomped up the stairs, ignoring whatever lecture Henry was starting. Lafayette followed, looking mortified. 

As soon as John was on the second floor landing, he glared down at Henry and launched into an equally loud tirade. Laf could only catch snippets of the conversation, phrases such as “homophobia,” “respect for house rules,” “offensive assumptions,” and repeatedly “not fair!”

“I don’t know why you are even worried!” John finally shouted over Henry, his face red and tears shimmering in his eyes. “It’s not like anyone can even get a boner in the House of Sexual Repression!” And with that he refused to engage any further, just grabbed Laf by the wrist and dragged him down the hall to the guest room. Slammed the door behind them.

“He is so fucking unreasonable!” John exploded, tossing the suitcase into the corner. “We live together! What does it matter if we sleep in the same goddamn bed? Who cares? Oh right, Henry fucking Laurens, the goddamn gay sex police!”

“John--” Lafayette tried to derail him, to no avail.

“Gotta treat us like some oversexed teenagers, separating us. Next he’ll be yelling that I shut the door just now, OH FATHER BETTER CHECK TO MAKE SURE WE AREN’T SCREWING IN HERE!” John shouted through the door. 

“John.” Lafayette spoke firmer now, went and corralled John into his arms. “Please calm down. I know you are upset but yelling is not going to fix it.”

“It’s not fair,” John said, this time into Lafayette’s chest where his face was now buried. “It’s so stupid.”

“Shhhh,” Laf soothed, petting his hair. “It is alright. You are a big boy, can sleep alone for a few nights.”

“It’s not that. It’s the principle! He’s treating us like children, I’m about to be 28 years old for fuck’s sake.”

Laf shook his head, gathered John closer. Sat on the the edge of the bed, pressed John closer. “Many parents struggle coming to terms with their grown children having a sex life. It is not unusual, or because we are both men, my love.”

“Well he’s dumb to automatically assume that sleeping in the same room means sex! It’s about respecting our relationship, and the fact that we’re adults…”

“Should we look into a hotel, perhaps?” Lafayette suggested. “Would that be a better option? Make you more comfortable?”

“No. No way. He’ll never forgive me, take it as express rejection, use it as a guilt trip and fucking emotional blackmail, plus he’ll win then.”

“You sound like Alexander. I do not care about winning, I care about you being comfortable.”

“It won’t be worth it,” John said, his voice getting smaller. “He’ll just be mad at me.” At the thought, John’s blood ran cold. Henry was probably pissed at him now, but pissed was different than anger. Henry’s anger meant ice cold rejection, complete silence, being shut out. Then, after being held at arm’s length enough, would come the guilt trip followed by the dressing down. John already felt lower than dirt at the moment, didn’t need Henry adding to that.

“What can I do, bébé?” Lafayette asked. “How can I make you feel better?”

“Dunno.” In the warmth of Laf’s arms, and with the adrenaline from the fight fading fast, John felt himself drifting. Loosening. “Did we pack Pokey?”

“We did,” Laf said. “He is in your bag.” Laf sensed John starting to slip into his headspace, could feel it in how he held himself, the look in his eyes. “How about this? I will get your Pokey. You will go get ready for bed, brush your teeth and wash your face. We will put on your pajamas. I can then tuck you in with Pokey in your bed, sit with you until you fall asleep?”

“Can’t stay in my room,” John pouted. “Get in trouble.”

“Alright. Then I will leave my door open, you will leave your door open, and I will check on you every so often until you sleep. How does that sound?”

“Maybe.” John listened, could hear the practiced sounds of Henry in his master suite on the third floor. Pacing, water running. “Just be careful.”

Lafayette smiled down at him. “Of course. You go take care of what you need in the bathroom, I will meet you in your room?”

John nodded. “Third door on the right,” he whispered, then crawled off Laf’s lap.

Martha was waiting for him in the hallway. “Which one of us is gonna explain what ‘sexual repression’ means to Jemmy because it sure as shit won’t be me,” she hissed, following him to the jack and jill bathroom they had shared growing up.

“Leave me alone,” John said. 

“I won’t,” Martha said. “Not if you’re gonna rile up Father two nights before my wedding in a big blow out knock down shouting match at 10 pm all over the fact you can’t spend a few nights sleeping alone.”

“It’s not that, he’s completely disrespecting my relationship-- ”

“Spare me the theatrics.” Just like when they were kids, Martha started gathering John’s hair to plait into a French braid while he scrubbed his face clean. “Enjoy the night apart. Doesn’t three in a bed get fucking crowded? I love when I have the bed to myself, it’s a vacation. Damn.”

“Well excuse the fuck outta me for actually enjoying my partners’ company, even in sleep.”

“God, you are annoying,” Martha said. Tugged the ends of his braid perhaps a bit harder than normal, twisted an elastic around the tail. “Just play nice? For a few days? For me?”

John gave a noncommittal grunt. Pulled his toothbrush out of his leather dopp kit. “I’ll try.”

“Seriously. And if not for me, do it for your damn self. Temper tantrums are _sooooo_ not a good look on you, Jacky.” She kissed him on the forehead and disappeared into her bedroom. Great. Now John was worried Laf would find his reaction to Henry ugly. The anxiety bubbled in him like a hookah.

True to his word, Laf met him at the door to his bedroom, Pokey the stuffed turtle under his arm, a pair of folded pajamas in his hands. Soft gray ones printed with tiny bats. As Laf helped him out of his clothes and into the pajamas, John wondered what Henry would make of such an action. Probably see it as perverted and twisted, not the tender, innocent caretaking John loved so much. Face pinched in a frown, he climbed into his bed, familiar navy blue and white bedding. The walls were so much barer than when he was a kid. All that was left was his bulletin board, covered in doodles and ribbons from sporting events. 

Laf tucked Pokey under John’s arm, smoothed the duvet. “How are you feeling, my love?” 

“Sleepy. Worn out.” Brow furrowed, he regarded Laf. “Are you going to be okay? Alone? In a weird house?”

“Do not worry one moment about me, my sweet. I am like a panther, I can sleep anywhere, no questions asked.”

“Are panthers… Known for that?”

“Think of the Jungle Book, the panther sleeping in the tree.”

John giggled, rolled so he could kiss Laf’s arm. “Can we call Alex, say goodnight?”

“Good thinking, my love. Here.” Laf pulled his phone out, put it on speaker. Alex’s voice was sleepy when he answered, perked up as they talked. 

“We had some of the most delicious pizza for dinner, oh and a soft ice cream!” Laf explained.

“I refuse to believe South Carolina has better pizza than New York. And what the fuck is a soft ice cream? Is that a sex thing?”

“Shhh,” John said, giggling again. “He means soft serve.”

Alex’s voice suddenly deepened, became gruff and sultry. “You two fool around without me?” he asked, an invitation rather than an accusation. “Wanna tell me about it?” 

Laf rolled his eyes, took the phone off speaker. Spoke quickly in French. Alex, of course, grumbled, then laughed when he heard they weren’t sharing a room. “Sounds romantic,” he joked, and Laf was glad John couldn’t hear him. “You, John, John’s family, and Henry’s crushing homophobia.” 

“We are not here for romance,” Laf said firmly. “We are here for Martha’s wedding. Mm. Okay.” He put the speaker back on so Alex and John could say their I love yous and goodnights. With the phone off and Alex no longer there to distract him, John felt incredibly sullen again. 

“I’m sorry,” he finally said. “I’m so sorry he’s treating you--treating us--this way.” 

“Do not be sorry, little one. I understand your hurt in this, but do not blame yourself, or think I am upset. My only concern is for you and your well being. I would sleep outside in a mud pile for you if I had to, no question.”

“That sounds awful,” John said. “What about a sand dune. Would you sleep there?”

“Happily.”

John chuckled, then yawned. “What about a cow pasture?”

“Anywhere. Your father may feel he may keep us apart physically, but nothing can diminish the fire in my heart for you.” Laf paused to peck a kiss on John’s lips. “There is nowhere I could go to sleep where you will not be in my thoughts and my heart.”

The smile practically broke John’s face. “Okay. I get you. You’re being a little corny, but I kinda love it.” 

Lafayette smiled back, happy to see John finally easing up a bit. The happier look on his face genuine. He would say any number of corny things to get John to smile and relax.

“I am going to go to my room now. I will miss you very much, little one.” John nodded, let Lafayette kiss him deeply for a good minute. As soon as Laf had vanished into the dark hallway, he turned to his side, willed himself to fall asleep quickly so Laf would only have check on him once. They both needed to sleep, tomorrow was a busy day.


	6. A Rehearsal

**Chapter 6: A Rehearsal**

Friday started pretty early. John and his brothers had their tux fittings first thing. His brothers were both over the moon about getting the day off from school, and their joy was infectious. They began the day with breakfast at Chick-fil-a, which Lafayette found quite amusing.

“Chicken? For breakfast?” He said on the drive over. Jemmy argued good naturedly with him from the back seat.

“It’s southern thing, Laf, you probably won’t get it,” he teased, making John grin at him in the rearview. 

“I am just not understanding. Do they have a chicken croissant?”

“Way to be a stereotype, Lafayette,” Henry Jr. joked. “Is that the only thing French people eat for breakfast?”

John, who had never seen Lafayette eat a croissant, bit back his laughter. 

“Croissants, baguettes, and snails,” Lafayette said seriously, not even cracking a smile when Jemmy made a grossed out retching sound. 

As much as Lafayette made fun of the chicken for breakfast idea, he managed to eat two chicken biscuits, three boxes of chicken minis, and drink a large Arnold Palmer, even with refills. 

“What is this?” He said, shaking the cup at John. “It is delightful.”

“Secret southern recipe,” Henry Jr said seriously. 

“I love.” Laf gave another slurp through the straw, stole the last chicken mini off of John’s tray. 

The formalwear store was in the historic downtown shopping district, a small shop in a long stretch of quaint buildings. John could see Lafayette itching to explore. 

Jemmy went first, his suit fitting going off without a hitch. Henry Jr. needed a hem in the sleeves, which the in-house seamstress started on immediately. John went last, scrutinized himself in the mirror. The tuxedo was a slim fit, nipped in at the waist in a deep black color with satin lapels. He didn’t know how to do up the black silk bowtie, let it hang around his neck. As far as he could tell, it fit well, but he was nervous at showing Lafayette, who had never seen him dressed up more than a button down and khakis. John preferred jeans or workout wear to anything else, was afraid the tux made him look silly. 

Took a deep breath, stepped out of the fitting room.

Lafayette said nothing, just looked at him, his face unreadable. 

“Do you, uh… Have one of the pretied bow ties?” John requested. “I don’t know how to do up this thing.”

The lady helping them consulted her clipboard. “The bride has said real bow ties only. Surely someone in the wedding party can help you? There are youtube videos...:”

“Come here, cherie,” Lafayette said, hushed voice. John went to him, let Laf spin him around so he could reach over his shoulders, tie the bow tie for him. His fingers graceful and effortless. John tried to follow how he did it, but was distracted by the closeness, by Laf’s breath by his ear. “There,” he said, smoothing the shoulders of the jacket. “You look stunning.” 

John found Lafayette’s eyes in the mirror. He blushed. “Really?” 

“Mmm.” Lafayette lowered his voice. John saw Jemmy sitting on a chair by the window, Henry Jr. distracted by his iPhone. “I do not care where. Or how. But when the dancing is over and the cake cut, I am taking you somewhere and fucking your brains out, this on the floor nearby. Understand?”

John’s breath hitched. God, Laf could be so filthy. 

They spent some time wandering the downtown area. John pointed out several spots he thought might be of interest. A small tea shop John’s mother had liked when she was alive. The kitschy diner where his lacrosse team used to go for milkshakes after a game. The art supply store he would blow his allowance at every other week. Lafayette ooed and ahhed over every spot, no matter how mundane it seemed, asked a million questions and wanted to see more. 

When John sensed Henry Jr and Jemmy were getting bored, he drove them back to the house, then took Laf over to where his high school was. Wanted to show him the athletic fields. 

“Everything about where you grew up, so different than I imagined it,” Lafayette said. “It is so big here, also charming and beautiful.”

John rolled his eyes, took Laf’s hand. “It’s just suburbia, nothing to write home about.” They paused walking, taking some time in the shade under a cluster of trees. “Thanks for humoring me. I don’t really wanna be in the house with Father right now, and this is… Nice.”

“Not humoring. I do like learning about your life, John.” Laf leaned into kiss him, and John’s first instinct was to glance around, make sure they were alone, which immediately made him feel like shit. Thankfully, if Laf noticed he wasn’t hurt by it, just swooped in for the kiss. “I wonder,” Laf said. “Is there perhaps a place, when you were young, students would go for um…” He searched for the word. “Like a make out point?” 

John snorted, wondered if Lafayette got all his working knowledge of American culture from bad 80s and 90s teen movies. “We sorta have a place like that,” John said, thinking of the park everyone would go to when they needed to hook up in high school. “It’s not much. You really wanna see it?”

“Of course I do! And I also want to hear about the other boys you brought there, as well.”

Shaking his head, John climbed into the driver’s seat. “I only went there once. With a girl. And it was a disaster.”

“Funny disaster or sad disaster?”

“It’s kinda funny now, I guess,” John said. “I just didn’t know what to do. And we kissed for like a minute, and she like, grabbed my hand and put it on her boob and it was just like--” John grimaced, though Laf was listening intently. “I didn’t know what to do. So I squeezed it, and I guess it was too hard and she yelled at me. And then made me drive her home.” John could remember the tactile details. The cashmere of her pink sweater, the smell of the creek running through the park, the sharp floral of her perfume, the lulling of the radio. How mortified he was, terrified he hurt her, and upset, but not surprised, by his body’s complete lack of response to her. At 16, he knew in the deepest corners of his heart he was gay, but getting there, that close to saying it aloud was scary at the time. 

“Well, luckily with me, you know exactly how to touch everything correctly,” Lafayette said seductively, making John laugh. 

The park was empty in the middle of an Friday in October, so John backed the Range Rover right up against the creek. Popped open the hatchback, and they climbed into the back together. “To really do it right, you either had your SUV popped open like this with a bunch of blankets and pillows, or you had a pick-up with like a comforter in the back.” Despite the lack of cushions, it was kinda cozy snuggled up against Lafayette, looking down at the willow-lined creek. The buzz of cicadas, sunlight dripping through the trees. “Chicks dig pick-up trucks.”

“And what do you dig, John Laurens?”

“You know what I like,” John said, kissed behind Laf’s ear as confirmation.

Lafayette put his lips to John’s ear. “I mean back then. What kind of boy you like?” The breathiness of his words sent a shiver down John’s back. 

“Does it matter?” John said. Talking about his painfully unrequited teenage crushes was not his idea of foreplay.

“I am curious,” Laf admitted. “Seeing you here, in your home. It is all a new, different side of you. And I am hungry to know all of it.”

Sitting in his lap, snug in his arms, John felt safe. Knew whatever he told Laf, there would be no judgement. “There were a few,” John said softly. Liked the soothing way Lafayette was rubbing his thigh. “This guy, um... Grayson. He was the captain of the lacrosse team. Tall, blond. He was actually super nice, but he…” John licked his lips, tried not to think too hard about all the awkward moments in the locker room. Towel whipping contests were always the worst. “He had a girlfriend. And I had a few classes with this one kid, Peter. He was like, a genius, ended up going to Oxford.” 

Laf was hanging on every word, nodding along. “Then, okay. The worst though--and god this is embarrassing--his name was Michael, but everyone called him Otto for some reason? Teachers hated this kid, he was kind of an ass. Had a lip ring and a tattoo on his arm, and would skip class to go smoke pot on the bleachers. He was in this awful screamo band, but he was totally cute. And I went once to see them play at this stupid club downtown my senior year.” John just laughed and shook his head. “Last I saw on facebook he’s got like three kids or something.”

“Otto, huh?” Laf lifted an eyebrow. “I am having a hard time picturing you liking the bad boy, little one. Especially with a lip ring.”

John played absently with Lafayette’s curls, thought for a moment. “I think once I admitted to myself I liked boys, I kinda went crazy for all of them, ya know?”

“And now, Alexander and I are the lucky ones.” Laf shifted and suddenly he was hovering over John, their lips inches apart. “You are only crazy for us.” And then they were kissing, lazy slow, Laf’s hair tickling his cheek. “I am going to make you forget about every boy that did not take his chance to do this with you,” Lafayette whispered. Claimed his mouth again, pressed their bodies together. 

Trapped between Laf and the floor, the warm breeze and sounds of the creek surrounding them, John wished he could tell him everything in his heart. The ache there that was only soothed by Laf’s and Alex’s presence, their assurance and their touches. How since meeting them, the memory of any other boy faded, they were all so unworthy in shadow of Lafayette and Alex. That teenage John could have never imagined himself ten years later, finding a healthy and fulfilling relationship with not one but two incredible men. That one of those men, an exceptionally beautiful, kind, wonderful man would be cradling him on the edges of the park, overlooking the creek. 

But it was so hard to talk, to empty the burdens of his heart, when Lafayette was pinning him down so firmly, holding him tight and rubbing him through his jeans. “Tell me what you want, my love,” Laf coaxed. “I can be your lacrosse captain, confident. That shy smart boy you knew. The bad boy. I will be anything for you, my love, play any part. Fill any fantasy.”

This was easy for him to answer, because the truth was screaming so loud in his head he was surprised he even needed to say it outloud. “None of them, silly. You just you be you. I love _you_.”

Laf chuckled in his ear, shifted his weight so he could toy with the button on John’s cargo shorts. “I did not realize that you fantasized about hooking up with a Frenchman as a teenager.”

“Not just any Frenchman. A marquis. Which, I mean, is kinda like a prince right?” 

“Not at all. I am not a prince.”

John cocked a smile. “Close enough for me,” John said. “And who doesn’t dream of bringing their prince to make out park?”

“Would a prince do this?” Lafayette asked, unzipped John’s shorts, pulled his cock out and swallowed it down in one gulp.

John didn’t have a cheeky reply, he was too distracted.

***

There was something surreal about having to answer Henry’s litany of questions with the taste of Lafayette still lingering on the back of his tongue, but John continued to smile vacantly and listen to his father rattle off information like a drill sergeant giving orders. It turned out that getting sucked off in a park in the middle of the day did wonders for John’s mood, as did kneeling in the sun-warmed grass and returning the favor. John loved the wind whipping at his hair, Laf grabbing hold of it just so. Treated him like porcelain, like he might shatter in the sunshine. 

“So is that a yes or a no?”

John shook his head clear, focused his eyes on Henry. “I’m sorry, sir, could you repeat the question?”

Henry sighed, rubbed the bridge of his nose impatiently. “I have to go over to the church about a half hour early to meet with the organist, and Jemmy has soccer practice until about 4. Do you mind picking him up and bringing him to the rehearsal so I don’t have to make an extra trip?”

“Yeah, no we can absolutely do that,” John said, nodding, hoping his agreement. 

“Thank you.” Henry eyed the pair of them suspiciously. “Please tell me you brought more formal clothes for the rehearsal dinner this evening?”

John sighed, fought the urge to roll his eyes. “Yes, Father, I’m gay not brainless.”

Henry clenched his jaw so hard, the tension was visible. “I didn’t mean anything by it, just you both look a little… Rumpled. That’s all.” John struggled to keep his poker face, willed his father to end the conversation quickly. 

“Are we done? I’m hoping to squeeze in a nap before the rehearsal. Yes, in separate beds,” John added before Henry could even pose the question.

“Right then. See you at the church at five. Please be prompt.”

“Yup sure,” and John was dragging Laf back up the stairs. Once they were in the guest room, Laf gave John a guilty look.

“Do you think he suspected?’

“What? That we, two adults, gave each other consensual oral sex in the local park? Who the fuck cares, christ.”

“So moody,” Lafayette noted, ruffled John’s hair. “And here I had hoped, perhaps your outlook would improve after our tryst.”

John grumbled, leaned into Lafayette’s touch. His mood had lifted, slightly, but he was sick of having to hold Laf at arm’s length. He wanted to smooch and cuddle. He wanted to curl up against his boyfriend’s chest, fall asleep listening to him snore. He wanted to wake from his nap, jump in the shower together so Laf could wash his hair for him. Most of all he didn’t want to be treated like a freak by his own father. 

“I was serious about that nap,” John said. Yawned on cue. 

“It is alright, little one, go take your nap I can stay here.”

“Actually, I have an idea…” A few minutes later they were snuggled up in the finished basement. Laf was clicking through Netflix while John lay with his head in his lap. Supposed his father would not be thrilled to walk in a find them like that, but he was too sleepy and cozy to care. Found himself quickly drifting off while Lafayette started an older episode of Law and Order: SVU. 

***

St. Mary’s was an older church, all sweeping skylights and white walls, making the murals pop. When John entered with Laf and Jemmy, their footsteps echoing, everyone in the pews and gathered up front turning to look. They weren’t late, but he guessed they were the last ones there. Everyone was milling and chatting, waiting for the wedding planner and the priest. John shook more hands and heard more names than he would ever remember, bridesmaids and groomsmen and David’s family. 

For what it was worth, as Lafayette worked the room, met and charmed as many people as possible, Henry looked on approvingly, albeit silently. John was thankful that Laf was so charismatic, unintimidated by a room full of people. He also realized, with a nasty sort of start, he and his siblings and Lafayette were the only non-white people in the room, and Lafayette the only black person at all. There was an uncomfortable moment when David’s mother eyed him with a bit of an ugly look on her face, which she quickly tamped down and shook his hand, forced a smile on her face. John’s eyes narrowed, and he felt much better once Laf was back by his side, holding his hand. 

The burn of everyone’s eyes on them was jarring. He had gotten too used to the bubble in New York, where-- while not perfect-- very few people batted an eye at a black man holding hands with a Puerto Rican man. This was the first time where John really saw his relationship through the eyes of his Southern friends and family.

One of David’s groomsmen, an aging Frat boy in a grass green polo shirt and very loud plaid khaki’s actually broke the silence, drew Laf into a pretty loud conversation. 

“So, Lafayette, dude. Where are you even from? You have an accent, don’t sound like any yankee I ever met!”

The group laughed, and John tightened his grip on Laf’s hand. Henry watched him like a hawk.

“That is because I am from France, my friend,” Lafayette said jovially. 

“Oooh, France, what part?” One of Martha’s bridesmaids, a pretty redhead. 

“I grew up in Paris, but have spent time in Cannes, Leon, Nice.”

“Oh gosh, I love Nice, what a lovely, lovely city.” An older lady, one of David’s aunts or something, chimed in. 

The frat guy interrupted them. “Ok, but so like, no offense, I’m just kinda… Confused? Surprised? I didn’t know people that looked like you lived in France?”

There was a beat of uncomfortable silence. John squeezed Laf’s hand so hard he was surprised he didn’t yelp in pain. He told himself he couldn’t punch this guy, not in the middle of the church, not on the eve of sister’s wedding. Perhaps in the parking lot--

“That look like moi? Of course exceptionally handsome men come from France! You Americans!” And nervous laughter broke out, Lafayette smiled indulgently, squeezed John’s hand back. 

“Bathroom,” John grunted, broke away to head down the hall behind the chapel. Henry glared at him, which he shrugged off. He needed a minute, unless they wanted to see him fight this idiot. In the stuffy one-stall bathroom, he tried to calm himself. Ran the water, splashed some on his face. The door opened, and Laf slipped in. John immediately went to his arms, sighed loudly. 

“I’m going to beat his ass,” John said into Laf’s shirt. The smell of detergent reminded him of home. “I’m going to meet him in the parking lot and break his legs.”

“Who, my love? Chad?” 

“Chad, all of them. I don’t care. They are all racist, homophobic, pieces of shit, judging the hell out of us, out of you, treating you like you’re some kinda ‘other’, it’s making me sick!” 

“It matters not--”

“Of course is matters, if fucking matters!” John let his voice raise just a smidge, could feel the rage burning hot on his cheeks. “They’re being horrible, and they think it’s okay to treat you like that, it’s not okay, it’s not okay to talk like that to anyone, and you--you’re mine, and if you think for a second I can just sit back and let it happen…” The rage swelled in him, and he actually just made a sound of fury, a frustrated grunt of sorts. Words evaded him.

“Please calm down, my love. You are safe. I am safe. This anger and stress is not good for you.” He held John a bit tighter, kissed the top of his head. “I will not have you getting worked up on my behalf. For one, this is Martha’s wedding, let us do our best to not stir the pan. Secondly, I am capable to fight my own battles. You are very sweet to try, but it is not worth it. And third… I have no third point, but I love you. And would always see you safe.”

John took a few more grounding breaths, gripped the back of Lafayette’s shirt. “I love you too,” he gritted. “And it’s because I love you that I am going to kill fucking Chad.” 

“But darling, if you commit murder, I will be all alone. Would you have me alone?” A hint of laugh in Laf’s voice, enough to make John relax a bit. He knew he was overreacting, that Chad was just another clueless white person who thought of himself as Not A Racist since he didn’t put on the white robes like his grandfather and burn crosses. It was a dumb thing to get worked up about, as he would never see Chad or his fellow idiots ever again.

“Come, my love, let us return. You have to rehearse.” Grumbling under his breath, John nodded, allowed Laf to pull him out of the bathroom. 

“There you are,” Henry Jr. said, waiting for them in the hall. “We’re waiting for you to start, Father is doing his silent meltdown thing. Thinks you guys are getting freaky back here.”

“In a church?” Lafayette said, hushed, scandalized. “In the House of God? I would never!”

Henry Jr. rolled his eyes. “Come on. Let’s get this over with.”

With Henry Jr. out of earshot, Laf leaned down, smirked. “I am lying of course. I find making love in a church very erotic.”

John was overcome with a fit of giggles. “Why am I not surprised?” he choked out, unable to shake the laughter, drawing a cold glare from Henry.

“Young man, please settle down,” he snapped, then let the wedding planner talk. 

There was a lot of shuttling around, processing, going back and doing it again. All in all, it was pretty boring, the only thing keeping John from checking out completely was the silly faces Laf kept making at him every time he caught his eye. Standing behind the podium up at the altar, John had to avoid looking at him so he wouldn’t crack up. He opened the bible to the bookmarked page, read the highlighted passage.

“‘Wives, submit yourselves to your own husbands as you do to the Lord. For the husband is the head of the wife as Christ is the head of the church, his body, of which he is the Savior. Now as the church submits to Christ, so also wives should submit to their husbands in everything’….”

“STOP,” Martha shouted, squaring her shoulders. She turned to the planner. “Is that the verse we agreed upon?”

The planner ruffled the pages on her clipboard. “You never specified which verse, so I just picked one of the more popular ones…”

The look on Martha’s face was priceless, disgusted and shocked. “What in the--Okay, well this bride says no. Find something else.” 

When it was time for the recessional, there was some confusion about how people were walking out. The sides were uneven, with Martha having a few more bridesmaids than David’s groomsmen. They doubled up on a few of them walking out, which was fine. John was sitting up front with the wedding party, and he stood and looked around, confused. 

“John… Older brother… Who is escorting you out?” The wedding planner asked. Henry squinted, but offered no suggestion.

“Lafayette can do it,” John said, cocking his head at where Laf was sitting in a pew. “I mean that makes the most sense, right?”

“It most certainly does not,” said Henry. 

John folded his arms, glared back at his father. “And why not? He’s my boyfriend, dad, who cares, he’s walking me somewhere, we’re not doing anything--”

“Think of how it looks,” Henry said slowly. “Son.” He added the last word as way of punctuation.

“How what looks, father? Two men walking down the aisle arm in arm? Looks a lot like the very thing you signed to outlaw, several times.”

The silence could be cut with a knife it was so thick. “John, Father.” Martha said softly. “Not now. I’m fine with Lafayette escorting Jack, Father.” 

“Well, I am not. And last I saw, I signed the check for this whole thing, so I have the final say.”

“Father--”

“Aunt Esther will walk with John. End of discussion.” Aunt Esther threw John a sympathetic look which he loathed. He could feel his face burning hot with anger and embarrassment. But nothing else was said, Henry just barking out directions to the Italian restaurant for dinner. Lafayette took him by the shoulder, he didn’t even notice the walk to the parking lot. 

“Little one?” Laf said once they were in the car. “Are you alright?”

“No!” John could hear the tears, feel them burning behind his eyes. “Not at all. This is stupid. I bet if you were a girl, none of this shit…” His chest heaved as he fought the sob building in his chest. 

“It is not shit,” Lafayette said. “You father has his limited views. Yes, it is hurtful, but it is temporary. Besides, if I were a girl...a very pretty girl, I must add...this issue would not be happening because you would not be dating me.”

John barked a harsh laugh. “True. You would make a pretty girl, though.”

“I can tell this is so hard on you, my love. Just be brave for a few more hours, cherie, then it will be night and you can be away from all of this.”

Hearing this, John slumped against the steering wheel. Night meant another eight hours alone in his lonely room and empty bed, Lafayette feet away but unable to touch him. The lack of contact was starting to get to him, when he realized exactly how much he took for granted, how when at home, he could have contact whenever he wanted. He could crawl into Laf’s lap, snuggle up against Alex, hold hands and kiss them them both, touch them until he was full on it. He felt starved, thirsty in the dessert. 

“I see you are still upset. Please, John, my dear, my sweet, tell me. I want to help you, do anything to cheer you, support you.”

“I miss you,” John blurted. 

“My love, I am right here.”

“No, I know. I mean I miss getting to touch you, hug you, kiss you, be with you the way I want without everyone staring, without Father getting angry. It’s not fair.”

“Shhh, come here.” Awkwardly, John leaned over the center console, let Laf cradle his shoulders and head. “I love you so much. I miss this too. We must make the best of what we have. And--” He tucked a wayward curl behind his ear, kissed him softly. “There is something quite romantic, a little sexy, about sneaking around. Secret lovers, yes?” 

John twined his fingers in Laf’s hair, pulled him back for another kiss. “It’s kinda sexy, for like five seconds, but not when I’m getting shit constantly and just want you to hold me.” 

For a second, Laf’s calm and positive veneer cracked and he looked pained. He rearranged his face quickly, pecked a quick kiss on John’s forehead. “I will think some on how to comfort you, be a better boyfriend to you.”

“Baby, it’s not you,” John said. “It’s them.”

Lafayette waved him off, seemed lost in thought.

***

They were some of the last guests to arrive at the Italian restaurant where David’s family was hosting the rehearsal dinner, their parking lot conversation delaying them a good bit. As they entered the back room where the small banquet was being held, an uncomfortable silence fell over the room, as if the group had been discussing them. John tensed, caught the warning look from Marty. Lafayette draped a comforting arm around him, squeezed his shoulders. 

Dinner passed in an almost surreal haze. John didn’t taste a single thing he put in his mouth, felt his face smiling but it didn’t reach his eyes. The only things that were real were Lafayette’s hand on his knee under the table and the familiar cadence of his voice. Two hours of purgatory, of making nice with people he didn’t care to know. Henry’s eyes, like ice, on him too much. 

John had never been as happy to be back at the house than he was in that moment. Unfortunately, Henry was right behind them, laid into John immediately.

“I am… Shocked... You would feel the need to bring your relationship to the forefront during your sister’s special day. How horribly selfish--”

“Selfish?” John snapped right back. He stepped in front of Laf, as if his physical presence could block Laf from his father’s flippant cruelty. “It was just a suggestion, you had to flex your power like some kind of tyrant.”

“I will not be spoken to like this in my own home. Lafayette, I must apologize for my son’s behavior, he often forgets his place.”

“Which is what, Father?” John sneered. “To bend to your every whim? I’m an adult--”

“Then act like it! Just be, Jack. You don’t need to parade your love life around, rub it in everyone’s faces constantly.”

John sputtered, took a minute to even come up with what to say in return. “Suggesting Laf escort me is _parading_?” he hissed. 

“Look, I know in the big city, folks wouldn’t bat an eye at two men waltzing down the aisle, but around here, it’s just different, Jack, and you know it. Yet you keep flaunting--”

“Praytell, exactly how was I flaunting?” John could hear his own Southern accent thickening, hated the way he sounded. Behind him, Laf was silent, he knew arguing in front of him was awkward but what else could he do? 

Henry shook his head. “The hand holding, the touching… The hiding in the bathroom in the church for fifteen minutes together, Christ, Jacky, do you see how that _looks_?”

“Unlike you, I don’t _care_ how it looks. If y’all thought we were fucking back there--”

“Language!”

“--Then that’s y’all being perverts, Laf was talking to me, calming me down because I was about three seconds away from punching that racist fuckface. But no, you bigots think we are just sexual deviants, can’t keep it in our pants. It’s amazing that for someone so disgusted by gay sex you sure do think about it a lot.”

There was a pause, Henry glaring and breathing hard. “This is the last thing I am going to say. Jack, you need a serious attitude adjustment before tomorrow. I will not have your… Sullenness ruining Marty’s day. So do whatever it is you need to do to get that attitude in check, or you will not like the consequences.”

“Great, so, I’ll start with sleeping in the same room as my boyfriend, since, you know, what I’m used to is sleeping next to him.”

“Goddamn it, Jacky!” Henry roared, slammed his fist on the granite counter top. John flinched, but stood his ground. “Separate rooms. We’re done here.” He turned to Laf, composed himself. “Sleep well, Lafayette.” And he stormed out of the kitchen, upstairs to his master’s suite on the third floor. 

With Henry out of sight, John crumpled, leaned his weight on the kitchen island. When Laf came to him, put his hand on his shoulder, John shrugged it off. 

“Mon cher--”

“I can’t--Don’t…” John shook his head, shuddered. The panic in his chest constricted. “I’m sorry. Bed. We need to go to bed.” 

Lafayette tried again, went to wrap his arms around John, but he squirmed away. “No. Not here. Not. He’ll get mad,” John said imploringly. “Let’s just go to bed. Sooner tomorrow comes, sooner this nightmare is over.”

“My darling,” Laf said softly. “I can see you need space right now, but I am worried. I am sorry I could not protect you from him, he yell at you, I do not like this. But I am… Cannot. I am a guest in his house? I am sorry, I feel I have failed you.”

Face pinched, John shook his head. “Not your fault, honey. Let’s not talk about this. Let’s go to bed.”

They climbed the stairs, stood on the landing. “Shall I tuck you in again?” John shot a nervous look up the stairs that led to Henry’s floor. 

“No,” he whispered. Lafayette felt ill at the sound of fear in his voice. 

“I will see you in the morning, my love.” When John dodged his kiss, the look on Laf’s face stabbed him in the heart. But he couldn’t… What if Father saw? 

“I’m sorry,” John said, choking on the sob caught in his throat. Shut the door so he didn’t have to look at what he wanted but couldn’t have.


	7. A Discovery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @garth_vader bribed the shit out of me

Chapter 7: A Discovery

His phone glowed 1:17 am. He had spent the last hour or so reading stupid shit on his phone while texting Alex. He dared not breathe a word of their difficulties to Alex, didn’t want to give him more reasons to hate Henry, or worse, to worry. And while John hated shutting either of them out, at this point, it was self preservation. 

How could he tell Laf he was afraid of Henry? He’d spent the majority of his life in fear. Fear of disappointment, of his anger, of his cold cruelty. And it wasn’t just about being gay, like Alex thought. He never doubted father loved him, and his siblings, but he was strict and his standards high. And when he got angry… 

John shuddered, tossed and turned. Sleep continued to evade him, guilt gathering in the pit of his stomach over just dismissing Laf. Not to mention, how badly he missed him, desperate for his touch. The sounds from Henry’s room above his head had ceased before midnight. John knew his father took sleeping pills, would be knocked out unless things got too noisy.

He knew how to be quiet.

Soft rustling as he scrabbled out of bed. The quiet padding of his socked feet on the hardwood floor. The hinges squeaking ever so slightly as he pushed open the door to the guest room. Muted click of the door shutting behind him. The peaceful, familiar breathing coming from the bed. 

John stopped caring. He needed Lafayette. 

He needed him now. 

Silently, _silently_ , John lifted the covers to the bed, crawled into the spot next to Laf. He radiated warmth, and John practically cried from it. He snuggled up close, clawed at his t-shirt. His movements roused Lafayette, who instinctually wrapped an arm around him, then popped an eye open.

“John?” he whispered, and John shushed him. “It is late.”

“I know,” he said. Had to lean into Laf’s ear to be heard. “I missed you so much. Couldn’t stand it.”

“Oh, my darling.” Lafayette hugged him even closer, buried his face in John’s hair. “I miss you too. And Alexander. Without my boys close, it is like an ache…”

“I’m here, I’m here, it’s ok. We’re together.” 

The heat from their bodies an unexpected aphrodisiac, and what was meant to be just closeness almost instantly dissolved into something needier, something heated as they kissed for what felt like hours, their lips never breaking apart. John gulped Lafayette like he was air, clung to him as if they had been apart for weeks instead of just a few hours. 

Even though they took their time, there was nothing more than kissing and holding each other, an undercurrent of urgency ran through each second that passed. John shivered from it, from the hungry way Laf lapped into his mouth. Ran his hands up the back of Lafayette’s t-shirt, clawed at him. Laf read John like a book, sensed the slightest change in him, rolled so he could rise over John. His arms fencing John in. Safety in what was familiar.

What wasn’t familiar was the pace they were taking. Laf hadn’t moved from his mouth, and John was used to him taking the lead, touching and kissing everything. Here he was almost hesitant, and John wondered what the hold up was. Forgoing words, John just lifted his hips, closed the space between them. Rolled up and closer, a few times, reluctant to even make a sound. 

Laf just kept kissing him. 

John tossed his head to the side, curls billowing, stretched his neck. Hoped his face was legible. Instead of his neck, Laf’s lips found his ear. He breathed a few times, air whooshing, giving him goosebumps. “Tell me, baby,” Lafayette whispered. Nosed at his hairline, the slope of his jaw. “Tell me what you want.”

There were not enough words, not the right ones, for John to adequately respond. The best he could do was run his hand lower. Grasped Lafayette through his boxers, liking the way he gasped in surprise. 

“Little one,” Laf breathed. Paused to nibble his earlobe. “I am surprised. You are quite naughty, sneaking in to break the rules.”

“Shhh,” John implored. Rubbed Laf again, savored the quiet hitch in his breath. “You think I’m bad?” 

Laf considered. Rolled off of John, fit their bodies together, John’s back to his front. Ran his fingers up and down John’s side, kissed the top of his shoulder. John could feel the swell of something in his chest, the bubble of some big emotion he couldn’t really name. 

“I think you are perfect,” Lafayette finally said. Hugged John around the waist, erased the gap between them. “But it is bad to come in, after saying we will not have sex here, and tease me.”

“Don’t wanna be bad,” John whined, his voice tightening. “Wanna be good for you, Daddy.”

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, John regretted them. A moment of confusion, of expressed fear that he went too far. It felt like his entire body was aflame from blushing, felt the flush crawl over his cheeks, down his neck, bloom over his chest. He went to roll away, to hide his face in the pillow and pray Laf hadn’t heard, that he could think of a way to take it back.

“Non, come back,” Laf said firmly. At least he wasn’t laughing. He prised John’s hands off of his face, made their eyes meet. 

“Sorry,” John mumbled. “That was… Weird.”

“John, my love. If this is something you want to try? To say?” Laf paused, searched for the right words. “I tell you I will be anything for you. I mean this.” 

John chewed on the suggestion for a moment. What did he actually want from this? What did he mean when he said it? In Lafayette’s arms, in this moment, he had felt safe and turned on and taken care of, wanted to indulge in that. Wanted that soft, secure love. Wanted a word for it. Words. 

“Can we try? I don’t want anything different, just want to… Talk... Different?” John squinted in the dark, felt even more awkward than before.

Then Lafayette pet his abs, nuzzled his neck. “Is there a special name you want me to call you?” With every caress of his hand, John relaxed in increments. The edge of his fear dulled slightly. 

“Dunno,” John admitted. “Try some… Stuff. Just um. See what works?” 

Lafayette nodded, pressed a kiss to his forehead. “This I can do. Now, is there something my baby boy wants?”

The invitation, the seamless acceptance, the sweet way Laf was still holding him, it was like a wave finally breaking. He squirmed closer, tangled their legs and tugged at Laf’s hair. “Daddy,” he whimpered, trying it on again. “I want…” He fidgeted.

“You must use your words, sweet thing.” Laf snuggled him closer. “Tell Daddy what you want.” 

Moving closer still, John pressed his lips to Laf’s throat. “Fingers. Daddy, please.” 

Lafayette chuckled indulgently. “You want my fingers, little one?” John nodded, bit his lip. Felt shy asking for stuff, was used to Laf or Alex just taking, suggesting, leading. 

A moment of stark coolness as Laf rolled away, leaned off the bed to dig in his suitcase. Came back with a travel sized bottle of lube, which made John giggle. Of course.

“Shh, shh,” Lafayette soothed him, kissed him so he could muffle John’s groans as he slid the first finger in. Circled it slowly inside, drawing a high, sharp sound from him. Teased a moment more, pulled back and pushed back in, slowly, slowly, _slowly_ thrusting in and out. He made no move to get creative, just consistent, deep pressure, easy. John ground back on him, tensed around him and made a small noise into the pillow. 

“More,” he begged. Twisted his hips, searching. “Another finger, please, Daddy, feels so--so good.”

“I got you, sweet boy, Daddy’s here, just--” Heavy pause so he could pour more lube. Two fingers now, Laf spread them slightly, felt John loosen a bit more. “You are such a sight, so pretty riding my fingers. Daddy loves his little boy like this.”

A low groan, animal, throaty, and John jolted in his arms. “Want another, please, Daddy, another.”

“Three?” Laf nipped his ear just so he would make that same pretty noise. “Are you sure? My baby is so tight, I am not sure.”

“Want it, want it, Daddy. I’m good, please, Daddy, I can do it.” 

Lafayette had long, thick fingers, dexterous too, and three was always a bit of stretch. But John wanted it, wanted to feel that burn and fullness. It was the best way to prep him for what he really wanted, but for now he was content with just fingers, with Lafayette’s lips on his neck and face. “Good boy,” he praised him in between kisses. “My good boy, so little and sexy. Should I?” Sought out John’s prostate, pressed on the spot making him shiver and whine. John pushed into it, seeking more. Laf always knew how to play him, how to handle him just so.

“Daddy,” he mewled. “Daddy, I love you, I want more, please--”

“Do you know what you are doing to me right now, sweet boy?” Laf’s free hand drifted to his stomach, very lightly outlined John’s cock through his pajama pants. John let out a broken moan. “I am so weak for you, my love. Daddy is aching for you, you have Daddy’s cock so hard right now.”

“I want it,” John said, like a confession. “Want Daddy’s cock. Please.” 

Laf smirked, curled his fingers, making John squeak. “You must tell Daddy where, little one. Your hand, perhaps, or your sweet little mouth?”

Even though John’s mouth watered at the suggestion, he knew what he wanted in this moment. “No, Daddy. Want you to fuck me.”

Gasping first, then chuckling in John’s ear. “Why, you naughty thing. You dirty, dirty little boy. Wherever did you learn such a naughty word?”

“Daddy, don’t tease me, I _need_ you.” He wiggled his hips, arched his back to entice.

“Let me hear you ask nicely for it. No bad words, tell Daddy exactly what he should do to you.”

John took a steadying breath. Lafayette slipped his fingers out so John could turn in his arms, nestle his face into his neck. 

“Please, Daddy, wanna feel your big hard dick in my ass.”

“Mmm, those are still pretty bad words. You want to feel Daddy in your cute little hole, yes?” 

John nodded eagerly, slung a leg over Laf’s hip. “Yeah… Mmph.”

“Let Daddy hear you say it, then, little boy.” He kissed John’s cheek. “Say, ‘Daddy, I want you in my cute little hole.’”

Blushing furiously, John grappled with the words. “Daddy, please, I want… Want you in my…” He turned down his eyes, the flush spreading from his face to his chest. “Want you in my cute little hole,” he whispered, embarrassment winning out so he buried his face in Laf’s chest. 

“Shh, yes, pretty baby, I can give you this, since you ask so nicely. Daddy can give you this.” Peeled John’s pants off his ass, skimmed his hand over his curves. While they had been talking, he had already slicked himself with lube, snubbed the head of his cock in the cleft of John’s ass. “Tell Daddy how much you want it, sweet one,” he coaxed.

“Bad,” John whined. “Want it real bad.”

“Daddy can tell,” Laf said. “My little boy is so open, so needy…” Snugged his cock again, loving the way John twitched against him. “Ready my love?”

The sound John made was so desperate, Laf could wait not a second longer. He pushed in, dug his fingers into John’s hips. “Daddy cannot deny his boy anything… I love you too much…”

And it was almost too much. The pressure, the exquisite feeling of being cracked open, his doubts and emptiness replaced by Laf’s presence. John loved the sensation of being filled, of Lafayette parting him and invading, the intrusion of it. And not just the way his nerve endings lit up while Lafayette entered him, but the resulting closeness, the feeling of giving himself over to Laf. Lafayette was inside him, the closest another person could be, and the feeling washed over him like a wave.

“Daddy, Daddy, I need, please…” John’s voice bordered on frantic, was growing in volume. Fearing they might get caught, Laf paused. 

“You must be quieter, my love.” But as he admonished him, his hand found John’s dick, swollen from lust, and he stroked him. 

To keep from yelling out, John bit the back of his own hand. It was all too much, it felt too good.

Lafayette thrust in and out of him, stroked John off in time to his own rhythm, alternated between lavishing him with kisses and with praise. Called him a good boy, his sweet baby, his little precious pet, every adoring nickname he could think of. “You make Daddy feel so good. You are so tight, your sexy little hole squeezing me, you always feel incredible. Will you come for Daddy, baby bear?” He cooed, jerked John off a little faster.

John came in his hand with a whimper, one that quickly dissolved into the quietest cries Laf had ever heard. He finished himself a few beats later, groaning into John’s ear “I love you, little one,” and holding him closer. As he pulled out, John cried a bit harder. Curled into a tight ball.

“Darling? Are you ok?” Lafayette asked, hugged him. 

“Daddy,” John whimpered, and when he looked at Laf, Laf could see it in his eyes. He was in little space, slipped completely. Not unusual, of course, but Laf felt powerless without the amenities of their home to properly care for him. “Daddy, I love you too, don’t leave me, don’t _yell_ at me, please… Please…”

It broke Laf’s heart, he just held John as close as possible, let him continue to cry. “I love you too, so much. I am not leaving, I am right here, shhh.”

“Want Papi,” John whimpered. “Want Papi, and Pokey. Wanna go hooooome.”

“I can get you Pokey, fix one thing, yes?” But John clung too hard to let him crawl out of bed. 

“Don’t leave,” he wept. “Stay, please Daddy, stay with me.” 

“Of course.” He held John close, tried to soothe him. When his sobs subsided, became small whimpers, he kissed him on the forehead. “Do you want to call Papi, Facetime him?”

When John pressed his face against his, he could feel how swollen and wet with tears he was. He shook his head. “Papi is sleepy, he went to bed. Don’t wake him.”

“My baby boy is so considerate. Please tell Daddy what he can do for you.”

John shuddered in his arms, started crying again. “I don’t know,” he wailed. 

So Laf just held him tight, rocked him against his chest, let him cry until they turned into hiccups, which turned into snuffling, then eventually snores. Laf lay awake for another hour, listened to John’s fitful sleep, unsure what to do. He knew that if Henry were to find John sleeping in here, that would be disastrous. But the thought of John waking up alone after such an emotional night wrenched his heart. His John was so sensitive, and often used his own sadness and anger as weapons against himself, and Laf could not stand to see such a thing happen. 

Once he was sure John was asleep, he carefully carried him back to his own bedroom, taking care to be as quiet as possible. Settled him in the bed, arranged the blankets. 

Lafayette barely slept the rest of the night.


	8. A Celebration

** Chapter 8: A Celebration **

The only thing brighter than the morning sunlight seeping through John’s blinds was the stark, sharp sense of loss. The pain of waking up alone. Especially after the night before.

The night before.

Shit. 

John sat up quickly, shame burning on his cheeks. Last night was definitely real, he could feel the soreness in his ass, the dried mess of their lovemaking. And he’d called Lafayette _Daddy_ , Jesus fucking Christ, was that why he was alone? Was Laf freaked out, brought him here to be rid of him. He had to fix this, and fix it quick, god how awkward, how did he end up here--

Tripping out of bed, he didn’t bother with real clothes or fixing his haphazard hair, he just knew he needed to see Laf immediately, explain what happened. He pulled open the door and was greeted by a thump and some cursing in French. Laf sat up quickly, turned to look at him.

“Oh, you are up, good morning my darling! I was wondering how late you should sleep--”

“Get in here,” John hissed. “What are you doing?”

Laf looked a little confused, taken aback by John’s squirreliness. “I was waiting for you to wake up, I did not want you to wake up alone, but I obviously could not stay with you, I was very worried.” He paused to yawn. “So I sat out here, waited for you.”

The hard look on John’s face softened. “You’re not freaked out?” 

Furrowing on Laf’s brow. “About what, little one? Your new, um… Shall we say… Nickname for me?” John winced. “Why would I be freaked out about something that you needed, that we both enjoyed?”

“Because it’s kinda weird,” John moaned. He went to hide his face, but Laf caught him.

“Non, baby. Unconventional, perhaps, but not only cathartic for you, but I must admit, arousing and satisfying for both of us?” 

Blushing like crazy, John nodded slowly. “Okay. If, um… Okay. We can talk about… _It_ again. Maybe.”

Lafayette hugged John close, nuzzled his hair. “My love, I will follow wherever you lead me.”

***

The day-of itinerary Martha had provided John told him he needed to be dressed at at the park near the church at noon for formal family photos. They were already running behind, John scrambling to shower and get dressed. 

“She didn’t tell me what to do with my hair!” He emerged half dressed from his bedroom, curls unruly, shirt untucked and half buttoned, socks but no shoes, tie dangling from his neck. “I have no idea what to do!”

John took in Lafayette, sitting on the couch, looking perfectly pressed and flawless in a slim-cut mohair tuxedo in midnight navy. His hair was pulled back, and he had trimmed up his facial hair. John forgot about his own troubles for a second, felt weak-kneed at the sight.

“Help,” he said sort of weakly. “Please.”

Adjusting his cufflinks, Lafayette laughed. “You look a mess, my love. What has happened?”

“I guess we can’t all look like we just stepped off the pages of a Brooks Brothers catalog,” John griped as he tucked in his shirt. Laf went to him, helped him re-button the shirt properly.

“This is Burberry, actually, but it was a good guess.” John just rolled his eyes, hoped Alex would never find out Laf had dropped probably three grand on an outfit. He allowed Laf to fuss over him a bit, fix his collar and tie his bow tie, straighten his lapels. 

“My hair,” John fretted. “I don’t know what to do, the humidity is insane today, and it’s going crazy but a bun just looks so boring and I--”

Lafayette yanked him into the bathroom, started fixing his hair. “I will take care of this, just let me…” He parted John’s hair, twisted off some sections and piled it on the back of his head. He was liberal with both the bobby pins and the travel bottle of hairspray he procured from his luggage. When he was done, John’s hair was arranged in an artful pile of curls and waves, prettier than a normal bun but not over the top.

“Well?” Lafayette prodded him. “Thoughts?”

John admired himself in the mirror. “Pretty,” he admitted. “Where in the world did you learn how to do that?”

Over his shoulder, Lafayette winked at him. “I cannot divulge all my secrets, little one.”

John caught sight of the time on his phone. “Shit, we gotta go,” he griped, practically dragged Lafayette out the door.

***

At least Henry was in a good mood. Or pretending to be, which was just as good. He greeted John and Laf jovially, directed them to the picnic table of pastries set up while the inevitable shuffle of taking pictures started. He was holding his own camera, which John hadn’t seen in years. An older film model, the strap looped around his wrist. 

The group lit up with the entrance of the bride, Martha trailed by her bridesmaids, all looking as fresh and luminescent as flowers. Martha went to Henry first, hugged him, the photographers snapping dozens of photos, catching Henry’s reaction to his daughter.

“You look beautiful,” Henry said in this hushed voice John couldn’t recall hearing. Under the picnic table, Laf took John’s hand, squeezed it. 

The next hour was the photographers arranging and rearranging group shots. Henry and Martha. John and Martha. Henry Jr. and Martha. Jemmy and Martha. Martha with all her brothers. Henry with his sons. Henry and all the children. Martha even dragged Laf into a few of the shots with her and John. 

After the family portraits, John watched Martha take photos with her bridesmaids and a few solo shots. Lafayette sat next to him, Jemmy fiddling on his PSP and Henry Jr. on his phone. Henry was on the outskirts of the park with his own camera, taking candid shots. The day was warm and it was uncomfortable to move too much. At some point, the planner found John, handed him a photocopy of the new reading. Lafayette read over his shoulder. Snuck a kiss on his cheek when Henry wasn’t watching.

“This is a beautiful verse,” he said softly to John. “You will do an amazing job.”

“I’m shocked they are letting a homo speak in church,” John said a little cooly, making Laf roll his eyes.

“I think as long as we do not consummate our union on the pulpit, it will be fine.”

“You would know all about that, apparently.”

Lafayette smiled mischievously. “Perhaps, if you are good, I will tell you the stories.”

“ _Stories_? There’s more than one?” John said sharply. Laf giggled. 

“Father says it’s time to head to St. Mary’s.” Henry Jr. strolled over. “Thank god, it’s air conditioned there. Can I ride with you guys? Jemmy is driving me nuts and Emily is meeting me at the church, I can ride to the reception with her--”

“Who’s Emily?” John snapped, looking suspicious.

Henry Jr looked just as annoyed back at him. “Calm down, grandpa, she’s my girlfriend.”

John sputtered while Laf muffled with laughter with his hand. “Girl...friend…?”

It was amazing how alike the Laurens brothers looked when they were pissed off. Once in the car, John cleared his throat. 

“I sincerely hope you are being safe with this young lady, and respectful--”

“Save the safe sex talk, big bro,” said Henry Jr.. “I got it.”

“Ok, but like, it’s a big deal, and you need to be careful!”

“First of all, you’re gay, what do you know about hooking up with girls safely? Secondly, you’re such a damn hypocrite--”

John turned to glare at his brother in the back seat, lounging and smirking, looking too handsome and young in his tux. “How am I hypocrite?”

“Sneaking into Laf’s room in the middle of night.” 

Lafayette chuckled from the passenger seat. John blushed, turned back around. “Don’t see how that’s any of your business.”

“Look, I’m not saying it’s bad. Next time, if you want tips for sneaking around, you should just ask.”

“I’d rather go without,” John muttered, turned his attention back to the road.

***

The church was blessedly cooler, with a nice room for the wedding party to wait. Laf had been taken away from him, seated god knows where, and John was on edge. John tried not to pace the antechamber they had been squirreled away in, knowing the nervous energy in the air wasn’t really his to claim. For what it was worth, Martha was cooler than cucumber, sitting in the edge of a bench, drinking from a bottle of water and smiling at her little crew. 

John hardly paid attention to the details. He filed out of antechamber after his father, in front of his brothers. The groomsman and David next, flanking the altar. For every bit of collected as Martha had looked during, David was the opposite, looking anxious and pale. Bridesmaids next, then the music swelled and everyone stood.

Martha was a vision. She practically floated down the aisle, beaming, the lush cascade of peonies in her arms catching the light of the church. The moment David laid eyes on his bride, he burst into tears. John stole a glance at his father, who was also sniffling, though looking stoic. 

The ceremony passed in a blur. It was a full mass, with communion (which Henry glared at John for sitting out of) and tons of prayers, a lot of standing and kneeling. John recalled enough of it from muscle memory, let the words wash over him and put him in a bit of a trance. Before he knew it, the priest was introducing the bride’s brother, beckoning him forward for his reading.

Public speaking had never been one of John’s strengths. He was okay at it, enough not to get too nervous. But suddenly he was painfully aware, in a room of about two hundred strangers, he felt like he had a neon sign above him, signaling him out as different. He faltered, hand on the earmarked bible, eyes searching the crowd.

He opened the bible to the blue sticky note, found the highlighted passage. Flicked his eyes up, still looking. Finally found Lafayette, six rows back on the left side, nothing but adoration on his face. He could finally smile, relax. Began to read:

“‘Two are better than one, because they have a good return for their labor: If either of them falls down, one can help the other up.’” John paused to gather himself. “‘But pity anyone who falls and has no one to help them up. Also, if two lie down together, they will keep warm. But how can one keep warm alone?’" This time, John could hear the beginning of tears edging into his own voice. It was just a bible verse, nothing earth shattering, but he couldn’t help but think of his own lovers... “‘Though one may be overpowered, two can defend themselves. A.. A... Cord of three strands is not quickly broken.’ Thank you.”

The magnanimity of the moment hung in the air. He knew instantly Marty had chosen the verse to speak directly to him, to sing of her own love, of course, but to pull him in as well. He had his own cord of three strands, and breaking it would take more than Henry, than the idiots who scoffed, than missing Alex for a weekend, than anything. Two can defend themselves, and those same two can bring a lonely hunter home. 

John closed the bible quickly, hoping no one saw the tears threatening to spill. The beauty of the day had cascaded over his heart, engulfing him despite what was left of his bitterness.

Lafayette gave him a little wave, touched his hand to his chest in a gesture of affection. John’s heart wrenched, and he took his seat.

***

Thankfully, Martha decided to the the receiving line going from cocktail hour into dinner, and excused everyone but the parents from joining her. It took John a few minutes to find Lafayette in the crowd after the ceremony, but as soon as met him out in the parking lot, he began gushing.

“The ceremony, so beautiful, David crying as soon as he saw his bride, so very romantic. You did wonderful my love, your reading touched my heart, I hope you know that Alexander and I, we will always defend you, keep you warm, our cord is not broken, and--”

“Calm down, Laf,” John said, suddenly, grabbing him by the forearm and steering him to the car. Lafayette wasn’t usually one to babble, and hearing him spill his feelings almost frantically, was jarring. “What’s gotten into you?”

Lafayette pinched his lips together, shook his head. Once they were in the car, he turned to John. “Weddings always make me feel… Emotional,” he admitted. “And I see how handsome you are, how wonderful you are with your sister and brothers. I see how happy they make you, but how sad you are in the this place. I want to be there for you, be your hero, keep you safe from everything. I am scared I fail you in this, that your father, he has been…” Laf shook his head. “I love you, John, so much.”

Blinking in a bit of shock from the outpouring of feelings, John regained his composure, took Lafayette’s hand in his. “I love you too, Lafayette. You’re like… Half of my everything. I can’t imagine my life without you or Alex.”

Lafayette sniffed. “I have to know. my love. Why are you afraid of Henry, John?” he asked. “Please, tell me this. If he has laid a hand on you, I will not stand for it, I will--”

“What? No!” John said. It would actually be much easier if Henry had hit him. Physical violence left a mark, everyone understood hitting your kids was bad. Henry never hit any of them. His weapons were his words, the cruel games he played, the cold way he shut people out. John felt weak admitting this, that is was silly to be scared of a man who had never physically harmed him. 

“I do not like how he frightens you,” Lafayette said. “And frankly, if he raises his voice at you again, I am not sure I will be able to hold my tongue.”

At Laf’s declaration, John’s blood went cold. The thought of Laf standing up to Father terrified him. 

“Please don’t,” John whimpered. Turned hurt eyes to Lafayette. “I’ll be good, I won’t piss him off, just don’t confront him, I’m begging you. That would make everything worse, this isn’t really that bad, he actually likes you, don’t _ruin _it, please…”__

__“My darling.” Lafayette squeezed his hand. “It is killing me to see you so scared. I, of course, will respect your wishes here, but just know…” He shook his head. “I wish you would tell me the whole story. Why it is this way.”_ _

__“I’m not ready,” John said in a tiny voice. “Not now. Not yet. Maybe.. Maybe soon. But I don’t… Don’t want to… Can’t talk about it yet.”_ _

__Lafayette continued to look pained. “No, that is ok. I want you to know you can tell me anything… When you are ready of course.”_ _

__John brought Laf’s hand to his lips, kissed the back of it. “I know that, honey. We’re gonna miss cocktail hour.” Catching the look on Laf’s face, John offered him a smile. “I’m okay, I promise.”_ _

__Lafayette practically leapt over the console to press a kiss to John’s lips. “I love you, little one,” he whispered, breaking away. “I am here when you are ready.”_ _

__***_ _

__At cocktail hour, John realized just how hungry he was, especially as the waiters seemed to be whisking away their plates of passed appetizers and the table spread with antipasto had been mostly depleted. He kinda whined under his breath, and Lafayette told him to wait, disappeared for a few minutes. John sort of milled around, greeted a few cousins and a handful of people from high school before Lafayette found him again._ _

__“Here you are, my love,” he said, handing him an amaretto sour. In his other hand was a plate piled with stuffed mushrooms, chicken skewers, pieces of spanakopita, puff pastry with brie and raspberry jam. John gratefully plucked one of the mushrooms off the plate, crammed it into the his mouth._ _

__“Thank you,” he sighed. “It’s good. How did you manage?”_ _

__Laf flashed him that heart melting smile. “Oh, one of the servers, she was kind enough to get me a plate with a selection of the finger foods, very helpful.”_ _

__John paused before taking a bite of the chicken skewer that was halfway to his mouth. “You flirted with her, didn’t you?”_ _

__Chuckling, Lafayette took a piece of spanakopita. “Perhaps a little,” he admitted. “But do not worry, little one, I only have eyes for you, and how delicious you look in your tuxedo.” As if to prove his point, he ran his gaze up and down John’s body, smirked._ _

__“Stop,” John hissed. “Don’t look at me like that in public, Jesus fucking Christ, Laf…”_ _

__“Apologies,” Lafayette said. Took a mushroom for himself. “I am weak for you, mon cher.”_ _

__They polished off the plate of appetizers, then were herded to the dining room, found their table with the little escort cards Martha had painstakingly handwritten. Lafayette lovingly tucked both of their cards into his jacket pocket._ _

__They were seated at what John thought of as the “kids” table. Himself and Lafayette, Henry Jr. and his girlfriend Emily, Jemmy, a few of their cousins. John was happy to have a respite from Henry, able to enjoy a meal holding Lafayette’s hand, chatting with his brothers and cousins._ _

__Emily, Henry Jr.’s girlfriend, turned out to be very sweet. She told Laf and John about her plans to attend the University of Georgia next fall, to study veterinary sciences, specializing in exotic and large animals. John noted the gold elephant charm on the necklace she wore. “I want to work in a zoo someday,” she explained, her eyes sparkling. John could see from the look on Henry Jr.’s face that he was smitten, and honestly, he approved._ _

__Dinner was a four course affair, salad, soup, pasta and an entree. Lafayette ate everything he was served, gushing over the seafood fettuccine and the prime rib he was served. John always marveled at the amount of food his boyfriend could eat, and still keep in perfect shape._ _

__“Where does it all go?” John asked as Laf swiped a forkful of potatoes from John’s plate._ _

__“Do not worry, my dear,” Laf said coyly. “I plan on burning off the calories later tonight!” He wiggled his eyebrows, making Henry Jr. say “dude” and Emily hide her face and blush. “On the dance floor?” Lafayette said incredulously, but squeezed John’s thigh under the table. Snuck him a little smirk._ _

__John didn’t know why Laf even pretended he was going to be hitting the dance floor. As far as John knew, there was only two types of dancing Laf did: standing in the club and letting a cute boy grind on him while he sipped his drink or fancy ballroom dancing, which required ample room and a competent partner, neither of which he had at the moment. But, it must have been in his third glass of wine or the festive nature of the evening, because as soon as the dance floor opened up, Laf had him by the wrist and was dragging him to the center of it._ _

__The crowd was going nuts because Taylor Swift’s “Shake It Off” was blaring out of the speakers and it attracted practically everyone, including Laf, who was bouncing around like a very happy bird. John giggled, tried to join but it was hopeless. Laf was just too graceless, kept stepping on his feet and knocking into him, making both of them laugh. Three songs of this and John had to sneak away for another drink, vowing this would be his last amaretto sour of the night._ _

__Martha, breathless from dancing and flushed with happiness, caught up with him at the bar. John finally hugged her, clung to her for a few minutes. “You are so beautiful, sis,” he said. “I’m so happy for you.”_ _

__“Thanks,” she said, kissed him on the cheek. Arm in arm, they watched the crowd. John sipped his drink. “We Are Young” by fun. had started, and Laf was dancing alone, kinda hopping around and pointing. He looked incredibly silly, which made John’s heart melt a bit._ _

__“Your boyfriend is hot, but can’t dance for shit,” she observed._ _

__“You’d be surprised how much better he moves when he’s not vertical,” John snorted._ _

__“Ew, Jacky, TMI,” she said. “Don’t wanna think about about my brother like that, thanks.”_ _

__“Sorry!” The next song started, “Mirrors” by Justin Timberlake, and people were pairing off to slow dance. Laf was looking around, clearly for him, and Marty pushed John away from her._ _

__“Go to your man,” she said. John rolled his eyes, but went to join Lafayette on the dance floor._ _

__“I like this song,” he implored John. “Dance with me?”_ _

__John grinned. “Sure, yeah.” At least with slow dancing, it was mostly being wrapped in Lafayette’s arms and swaying in place. Laf tried to sing along, but kept butchering the lyrics. “‘Cause I don't wanna lose you now, I'm lookin' right at the other back of me... That cadence in my heart, in your face, and now you’re home…”_ _

__Stifling a giggle, John didn’t have the heart to tell him he sang the words wrong._ _

__***_ _

__The night wore on. The reception dissolved into a huge dance party as Martha forewent a lot of traditional reception customs: she nixed the bouquet toss (“sexist and outdated”), the garter toss (“uncomfortable”), the toasts and speeches (“everyone hates them”) and the corny group dances. John had stopped drinking when Laf did, saw the wolfish look in his eyes, remembered his promise in the tux shop. They needed to stay sober if they wanted to bang at some point, it was one of Laf’s few rules about sex._ _

__About thirty minutes before the reception was to end, Laf snuck off and John entertained himself by people watching. His father was sitting at a table with John’s uncles, chatting and drinking bourbon. They were laughing, and Henry was actually smiling, looking relaxed. Henry Jr and Emily were twined around each other, swaying to the music. Jemmy was seated at the table, looking sleepy. Everyone was dancing, drinking, chatting and John felt wonderfully connected, an odd affection in his chest for the people in the room._ _

__“I have done it,” Lafayette said, coming up behind him, grabbing him by the hips. John turned into the kiss, smiled against Laf’s lips._ _

__“Did what, honey?”_ _

__Lafayette flicked his wrist, presented a keycard between his two fingers with a flourish. “There were still some rooms available, discounted for the wedding block?” He smirked. “You are all mine tonight, little one, can be as loud as you want and fall asleep in my arms.”_ _

__John tried not to blush. “Laf, we don’t have any clothes for the morning, or our toothbrushes…”_ _

__Lafayette waved his hand. “Mere trivialities.”_ _

__“What about my father?” John cast a glance at where Henry sat._ _

__“We are adults, John.” Laf wrapped an arm around his waist. “If he has anything to say, he can say it to me.”_ _

__The forcefulness of his words, the steady hand on his hips, the look in Laf’s eyes. John was weak. That familiar stirring, that need to be grabbed and handled and loved…_ _

__“Wanna get out of here?” John said, smiling._ _

__Lafayette practically dragged him from the ballroom._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading. I love your comments so much


	9. A Connection

Chapter 9: A Connection 

Lafayette insisted on running out the car to get “supplies” for the evening. John wondered what he could possibly mean, decided not to dwell too much on it. When it came to sex, Laf had the mindset of a boy scout: always be prepared.

The room was gorgeous, all modern whites and grays with touches of green, very serene and almost spa like. Laf had left John with no instructions, so he opted to sit on the edge of the bed, upload some of the photos he took to Instagram, all with the hashtag #davidlovesmartyparty.

The key card lock beeped, and the door opened, Laf with his iPad in hand and a shopping bag from the resort gift shop slung over his arm.

“It is amazing what they have in the way of sundries at a resort store,” he said off hand. Unpacked the bag, pulled out a pair of toothbrushes, some toothpaste, t-shirts with “Charleston” printed on the chest, and finally a bottle of lube.

“You bought lube at the gift shop?” John said incredulously. 

“Ah, no. I had that in the car. Just in case.” He winked at John, placed the t-shirts on the dresser, went to lay the toothbrushes on the vanity. “Darling, will you hook up your phone to the radio dock? Select some sexy music?”

John snorted, pulled up one of his Pandora stations, seventies and eighties soul. Earth Wind and Fire filled the small room, and Laf came out of the bathroom to go sit in the armchair across from the bed. 

“Not gonna join me?” John asked enticingly, smoothed the coverlet on the bed next to where he sat.

“Not yet, my love. I am going to Facetime Alexander.”

“Oh,” John went to leave the bed, join Laf, but he put up a finger to stop him.

“Stay there, if you please. I will want you to model your outfit for Alex.”

“Hey!” said Alex’s voice from the iPad. Laf grinned, waved at him on the screen.

“Mon chou, so good to see your face! Are you well?”

“Meh, little lonely. Better now that I can see you. Damn, that suit though.” Alex paused. “Where’s John?”

Laf turned the camera to face out, John waved from the bed, smiled. Alex made a pleased sound, a low wolf whistle.

“Okay then. Damn boy, you look like James Bond,” which made John giggle. “Love that outfit,” he said all low. “It would look better on the floor.”

Lafayette made a sound of agreement, turned the camera back around, then set the iPad, screen facing out, against the TV next to him. Now Alex had an excellent view of the room and John by the bed, and John could see Alex’s face too.

“I think,” Laf said slowly, smirking at John. “Alexander and I would like to see you put on a bit of a show? 

“Strip tease, strip tease, strip tease,” Alex chanted, smiling wickedly. John rolled his eyes, but stood up regardless. Knew better than to begin without explicit directions from Lafayette.

Laf crossed his legs, tipped his chin as if to say “go on.” John stripped off his tie, laid it gently on the bedside table, undid the buttons on his jacket. A Marvin Gaye song had started, so he sort of swayed to the music, smiled over at Alex and Lafayette watching him from the screen and seat, respectively. 

Undressing all of the layers was more cumbersome and less sexy than he hoped, though he liked the way Laf’s eyes tracked his every movement. When he was down to his white undershirt and started to unbutton his slacks, but Alex stopped him.

“Take down your hair, baby boy,” he requested. “Actually, tank top first, then face away from us. Wanna see your curls all over your shoulders.”

There was something so poetic about the request, of course John obliged. Peeled off his undershirt, spun in place. There were a good thirty or so pins in his hair, so John had to pluck them out as quick as he could. Once they were out, and exiled to the nightstand, he shook his curls loose, felt them cascade down his back and neck. Lafayette hummed his approval, and Alex said “fuckin’ gorgeous,” all the way from New York. 

By now, John was semi-hard, simply from the undivided attention from his two lovers. He slipped out of his trousers, stood before Lafayette and Alex in his palm-tree printed boxer briefs. John knew he looked good, the shape of his body, the cut of his muscles, the chubby shape of his cock in his underwear.

“Daddy?” he finally whispered, looked Laf in the eye. “Want you, Daddy.”

On the iPad screen, Alex looked like Christmas had arrived early. “Oh. Ohhhhh. Oh yeah, what did you call him, babycakes?” 

John swallowed, blushed. “I called him Daddy, Papi,” he said softly. 

Laf was pleased at how readily Alex accepted this, along with the lustful gleam in his eye. “Of course you did, sweetheart. Of course. Now are you gonna tell Daddy what you want, or continue to stand there and whine like a little slut?” 

John stood looking a little nervous, looked to Laf for assurance. 

“I think,” Laf began. “I would like to see you continue to show off for us?”

“Yeah,” Alex hummed. Came closer to his device, his eyes sparkling. “Get naked, baby boy. Get on that bed and touch yourself.”

Lafayette chuckled. He could always rely on Alex to ramp stuff up to eleven without hesitation. When John paused, looking reluctant, Laf encouraged him. “Go on, sweet thing. Do as Papi has told you, take off your panties.”

The warm glow of submission started in his fingertips. No one had touched him yet, and Alex was 800 miles away, yet that familiar flicker, that sweet song in his blood. He felt it, felt that wonderful desire to hand over the control, to submit. He stepped out of his boxer briefs, sat at the foot of the bed. Leaned back on his arms, tried to look seductive, could see the hunger in both his boyfriends’ eyes. 

“Did I stutter?” Alex snapped. “I told you to touch yourself. We haven’t got all night.”

Blushing even harder, John wrapped one hand around his cock, mostly hard now, and gave himself a few dry strokes. Too shy to look directly at them, he focused on watching his hand on his own body, listened to the small sounds Lafayette and Alex make, spurring him on. 

“You got lube, Laf?” Alex asked. When John stole a look at him, he noticed his eyes were hooded with lust and he was flushed. John wondered if he started touching himself yet, or if he was waiting for things to get even steamier. He wouldn’t be surprised if Alex had his hand on himself before anyone else. Patience was not something Alex was known for.

“Of course I have lube, mon chou, I am not an amature. However, if I let him use it, he will come quickly. Unless that is what you are looking for?”

“Not for his dick.”

God, how John loved when they talked about him as if he weren’t there. 

“Oh?” Lafayette had plucked the bottle of lube off the dresser, sort of brandished it. 

“Nah. Want to watch him finger himself. He’s always such a _slut_ riding his own fingers, playing with his dick…” 

John whimpered. Laf beckoned John over, motioned for him to hold his hand out. Glowing like a setting sun, he let Laf pour the lube into his hand. Lafayette didn’t touch him, just shooed him back to the bed. John arranged himself, let his legs fall open. Teased himself open with one finger, stroked himself slow.

“Legs up, baby, how can I see your ass like that?” Alex barked. “Wanna see your hole, come on baby, think.”

“Sorry Papi,” John whispered, adjusted and brought his legs up. Heard Alex groan when he caught an eyeful of John’s lush bottom, two fingers digging into himself. 

“You look lovely, cherie,” said Lafayette. “But you are terribly quiet. Are you going to tell Daddy and Papi how it feels?”

“Frustrating!” John mewled. “I--I--I’m frustrated.” 

“Aww, sugar,” Alex replied, a touch condescendingly. “Frustrated. How so?”

“You know why!” John snapped. “No one’s--no one’s touching me.” 

Lafayette smirked at him. “My love, if you are wanting to be touched, you just need to ask.”

“Please, please Laf…”

“Properly?” Alex chided.

“Ah--uh… Daddy, um… Daddy, please… I want you Daddy, want Daddy…” 

Alex chortled, caught Lafayette’s gaze. John’s hands had both stilled, on and in himself, and he lay on the bed panting and just starting to sweat, looking just a touch desperate.”You gonna keep that poor boy waiting?” Alex licked his lips, as if hungry. And honestly, three days without his boyfriends had him feeling that way, he was eager not just to watch the two of them together, but for them to be home. He wanted to lose himself in John, feel Laf pin him in place.

“I will--” Lafayette assured him. John made a broken sound of relief. “--Once he begs. To my satisfaction.”

Chuckling, Alex nodded. “Yeah, hear that sweet cheeks? Beg Daddy correctly, like a good little whore.”

“Daddy…” John whispered. Licked his lips, eyes glinting. “Please, Daddy, want you to… Want your cock.”

“Well duh,” Alex called out. “Who doesn’t? You can do better.”

Lafayette smiled, stood up so John could take in his full height. He looked so formidable and handsome in his suit, John felt like he would melt into a puddle. The tenting in the front of his trousers made for an exceptionally arousing picture, moreso when he rubbed at himself through the expensive fabric.

“Is this what you want, my sweet?” he asked, and John nodded, looking so eager Lafayette almost cracked. He just gripped himself more firmly through his pants, liking the way the mohair looked pulled tight over the shape of his cock. “Tell me why I should give it you, then.”

Looking all wide eyed at Alex on the screen, then back to Laf, John hesitated. He felt shy begging, offering things, it was too close to bragging. “I’ll be good, Daddy,” he finally managed to whisper. “I’ll be so good for you. I’ll do anything.” 

“This I already know,” Lafayette said confidently. 

Seeing how gorgeous Laf was, and the expectations in Alex’s eyes, the floodgates inside John opened. “Then Daddy, please… Please fuck my ass. Just wanna feel your cock in my ass, your cum filling me up, don’t even take off your clothes, just…” Blushing, he got on his knees, leaned forward on his elbows and pushed his ass out. Sharp intake of breath from both his lovers; he was rarely this brazen. “Daddy, just take out your dick and wreck me, wreck my ass, please!”

“Good fucking god,” Alex said almost in reverence. John continued to whimper on the bed, looked over his shoulder with pleading eyes. “You gonna say no to that?” He asked Laf.

“Heh. No, I think not,” Lafayette said. Unzipped his pants, eased his hard cock out of his fly. Brought the lube with him as he sauntered to the side of the bed. Took his time smearing himself with the lube, watching John twitch his hips and make little impatient sounds. 

“Daddy, faster, don’t make me wait, please....”

From the iPad, the slick sounds of Alex jerking off and his breathing was all they could hear.

“Shhh, my little love, it is alright. Daddy is here, going to make you feel good, give you what you want, yes?”

The defeated sound John made, a high pitched keen of absolute surrender, and he arched his back and _whined_ for it. Lafayette hitched him even higher by his hips, steepened the angle and pet his ass kindly. “Daddy’s good boy,” he mused. “Daddy loves his little one so much. Is my baby ready for Daddy to love him until it is too much?”

“Yes!” John wailed, pushed back towards Laf, offered himself. 

“My good boy,” Laf said quietly. “Going to fuck my good little boy until he cries, begs me to stop.”

The next words were lost on John’s tongue as Laf slid home, not even giving him a second to adjust. He gasped, squirmed as Laf shifted inside him, relished the tight heat. Muttered to himself in French, ran his hand over the small of John’s back. “Pretty thing,” he said. “My pretty boy.”

“Yours,” John sobbed, gripping the sheets. “Daddy…” The brush of Laf’s clothing on the back of his naked thighs made him feel even smaller, vulnerable. Then he was moving. Fucking him hard, dizzying pointed thrusts, ones that shook the bed, rattled John’s teeth, made him grind back and down, tears in his eyes.

“Yeah, like that. Harder Laf, want him to feel it on the plane ride home. Fucking tear that ass in two. How’s it feel, baby boy, that fat cock just reaming you?” 

John cried out wordlessly, face in the sheets. Laf paused, adjusted his jacket, took a breath. “I believe Papi asked you a question. Be good for me, cherie, and answer Papi.”

“Feels good,” John whispered, shaky. “S-so good…”

“Course it does, sweet thing,” said Alex. “Shame I’m not there. You’d be warming my cock right now, little boy, getting it nice and wet and hard, keeping me ready. Cuz when Laf was done, after you’re done taking Daddy’s thick cock, I’d make you ride me, sit straight on my dick, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Such a shame,” Lafayette lamented, teasing Alex a bit. He pulled out half way, let Alex catch an eye full of where his cock and John’s ass connected. “He is all mine tonight, mon chou, you are missing out.”

Alex made a small sad sound. “True. You two will be back soon though. Gonna wear that ass out,” he said. His eyes scanned the scene. “Get back to it, Laf, poor little thing is desperate, I’ve never seen a slut hungrier for cock than he is, Jesus fuck.” 

“May I fuck you, little one?” Lafayette asked. “You have been so quiet, so good. Give Daddy a color so he knows he can continue.” 

“Green,” John sniffled. “Green, Daddy, fuck me, please…”

“Told ya,” said Alex smugly. “Cock slut.” 

“Mm, yes, then, baby boy. I am going to fuck you, I am going to fuck you hard. I know you can come on Daddy’s dick, but you must focus. Can you do this for Daddy?” 

“Come… Come on Daddy’s dick,” John repeated. Even Alex could tell he was flirting with the edge of subspace and it was honestly such beautiful thing he wasn’t even jealous, just so turned on it almost hurt. 

Lafayette wound one hand in John’s hair, held it like reins. Planted his other hand on John’s hip. He writhed, and cried out for it, but Laf remained still. Another beat of adjusting, then an absolute onslaught. Hips like an attack, driving in and out of John with such force it knocked him silent. Laf had what Alex jokingly referred to as “prostate vision,” a natural gift for seeking out and attacking said body part. And tonight, this skill was in full force, Lafayette nailing the target with each thrust, making John’s eyes water, his breath hitch.

“How’s that, Jacky?” Alex asked. “I can see it on your face, like fucking target practice. Bullseye after bullseye, shit.” 

“If he comes before you, mon chou,” Lafayette said. “You will not come at all. So I suggest you focus on the task at hand.”

The smirk Alex shot him was priceless. “Gonna stop me from 800 miles away, sir?” He said sarcastically. Alex’s insolence was turning Laf on, making his hips stutter, making him dig deeper. 

“I cannot,” Laf admitted. Growled. “But I can punish you quite swiftly upon my return. Your choice, mon amor.”

Alex giggled to himself. “I’m not worried,” he said, watching John pant and twist, impaled on Laf’s dick and looking so sweet and frustrated, his cock red and engorged from neglect. “Looks like you might be there all night, Laf.”

“Poor me,” Lafayette lamented sarcastically. “He is so tight. Feels amazing. Forever with him would not be enough.”

Another groan burst from John’s lips, half frustrated, half emotional from Lafayette’s words. “Daddy,” he begged. “Daddy, I have to touch myself, please, it’s too--too much.” 

Laf paused again. “No hands, sweet thing,” he said. “Here.” He lowered John, adjusted the angle so he was still inside him, but John was flush with the bed sheets. “You are permitted to rub yourself in the sheets. Alexander, take as long as you wish, John will be humping the bed until you have finished.”

“Oh,” said Alex, watching John practically cry. He was pinned, of course, pinned and so frustrated, watching him shudder against the fancy bedding. “Oh, darling. You’re so pretty. Mmm.” Worked himself in hand, gave himself a few lazy squeezes. “Now the question is, do I pop off quick so you don’t have time to give yourself relief? Or draw it out, let you tease yourself until you’re begging for release? Decisions, decisions.”

Lafayette chuckled, played idly with John’s hair. Feeling each fidget of his body as he squirmed in the sheets was more erotic than he anticipated. It would not do to come first, not when he was in control of the scene. His master plan was to watch John get worked up, make sure Alex was taken care of. Then, pound at John until he either came untouched or cried for him to stop. Only once he was there would he allow himself to let go, to either fill John with his cum, watch it drip out, or roll him over, come on his thighs. Perhaps his stomach? His mind whirred with possibilities. 

But then John was arching his back, rutting against the fancy bedspread, his ass working back and forth with the rhythm of his movements. Laf had to bite his own lip to ground himself, clench his fists. John was sexy when he was desperate, letting the desires of his body control him, when he let go inhibitions and just _felt_. “Does my baby like that?” Lafayette breathed. Alex groaned, and if his sounds were any indication, he was close. 

“Daddy,” John gulped, lifted his head. Tears had gathered, his eyes wet with them. “Need it,” he whimpered. “Need to come.”

“Of course you do, sweetheart,” Lafayette coddled. “Little Alex first.”

“M’close,” Alex admitted. “Wanna see you work that dick, Jacky. Tell Daddy you love it while you hump those sheets like a thirsty little whore.”

“I love it,” John repeated, voice tone giving away that he was in that headspace. Small voice, breathy and quiet and so needy. “Love it, Daddy, love your cock, love it…” He rubbed himself in the bedspread, canted his hips. That sight, the desperation there, tumbled Alex over the edge and he came in his own hand, crying out. 

“Fuck…” he hissed, squeezing his eyes shut. Paused to catch his breath. “Goddamn it.” When he opened his eyes, he looked slightly punch drunk. “Fuck, I miss you both.” His voice cracked, and both John and Laf looked up, but he caught himself. “I’m okay, promise. Wreck his ass for me, Laf.” He joked, hitching his dominating persona back on. 

“With pleasure,” Lafayette murmured, then established his pattern, long deep strokes that had John writhing almost instantly. 

“Close,” he sobbed, pushed back against Laf. Each punch to his prostate was like lightning, made him shiver and grit his teeth and teeth, his dick weeping pre. “Daddy, I’m close, so close, just touch--”

“Non,” Lafayette stated firmly. “You say you love Daddy’s cock. Show me you love it.”

John cried out in frustration. 

“Here, sweetie,” Alex said. His eyes were sleepy but he was still watching in fascination. “You can do it, just focus. You look so sexy right now, so strung out. We love it, love our good boy. Think about Daddy’s thick cock, so deep in your sweet little ass. Daddy’s good boy, his little cockslut.”

“Keep… Talking…” John stammered. “Papi…” John felt his abs flexing with the force of it, muscles coiled so tightly it was practically painful. Balls pulled tight, sweat in his eyes, fingers cramping they gripped the sheets so hard.

“Yeah? Whatcha wanna hear, lovey? How perfect you look crying on Laf’s cock? How small and tight your ass is around him, so big compared to your little hole? How much I love that hungry look in your eyes, like you’d do anything for someone to touch your cute little dick?”

Pushing back on Laf, John nodded. “Yeah. Want… Want…”

“We know what you want,” Alex snapped, voice turning meaner. Laf was holding out like a champ, barely breaking a sweat despite being fully clothed. Dark thick cock sliding in and out of John. Gorgeous. “Stop whining about it. Listen, sweetheart, sluts like you, they’re built for this. Got that tight ass, nice body, pretty face. Strung out on cock. Be glad I’m not there, sugar, I’d be teasing you so hard. Bet that little prick is just dripping with precum, I’d find my way down there and suck your tip like candy, not gonna blow you, but just taste because you are so goddamn sweet.”

“Shit, shit, shit,” John squeaked. Between the filth pouring forth from Alex’s mouth and Lafayette’s direct attack on his prostate, he could finally feel it simmering. Like walking a tightrope, coiled and ready to tip. “Can’t, I can’t, can’t do it, Daddy, can’t.”

“You can,” Lafayette assured him. “You can and you will.” Lafayette slowed his strokes, concentrated on digging directly onto John’s prostate. He howled, arched his back.

“Green,” he choked out. “Call me names, Papi, please…” 

Alex picked up on what John needed almost immediately. “Come on, whore,” he urged. “You know this is what you’re made for, being such a good slut for Daddy and Papi. Taking dick right up the ass like a common whore. Sexy, pretty, perfect, wanna see you blow your load, pretty boy. Cream yourself all over those sheets just from getting your ass hammered.”

There it was. The feeling was unlike any other, a wave smashing into him. His skin was electrified, like he suddenly felt every hair follicle on his body, his scalp, everything. Felt everything. He came so hard it was like his cum volleyed out of him, splashed onto the bed spread. Thighs quivering, his skin on fire, and Lafayette was still fucking him, pressing that spot that had his entire body keyed up. Light growing brighter, whistling in his ears, making his hair stand on end. Then a hand reaching around, rubbing the head of his dick, still fucking him. 

The light swallowed him whole.

***

When John came to, he was in the bath, pressed up against Laf’s chest. He didn’t move, his legs felt like jelly. Just sort of shifted and nuzzled. 

“Laf?” he whispered. Lafayette brought a wet hand up to cradle his head.

“My love has returned to me,” Lafayette said. He was smiling like a dope, gleeful, but also peaceful. “How do you feel?”

“Oh my fucking god,” John breathed. “What happened?”

Lafayette continued to grin, brought up a washcloth to rub at John’s back. “You did it. You came untouched, and it… Let us just say you may have slipped? A little? How are your… Feelings?”

John realized he was crying, but it wasn’t… He wasn’t sad. “Overwhelmed,” he admitted. Buried his face to Lafayette’s neck. “Felt so good. But also... A lot.” 

“Mmm.” Lafayette scrubbed between John’s legs, quick as possible. “You are so good, such a good boy. My perfect angel.”

John pressed a kiss to Lafayette’s sternum. “Love you.”

“I love you as well, my sweet. Now, let us finish our bath, then perhaps, room service? And a film?”

It sounded lovely. Of course, answering the door in nothing but his boxers and Laf’s tuxedo jacket was odd, but the server delivering their food didn’t even bat an eye. He sat on the edge of the bed and let Laf braid his hair while they picked at their plates of potato skins, mozzarella sticks, and jalapeno poppers. 

Later, when John was curled up against Laf’s side, _Brave_ playing on the TV, he caught his attention with a quick belly rub. “Honey?” he said. Laf looked at him with tired eyes, but contentment on his face. “Thank you.”

“For what? The movie? Or the orgasm?” He waggled his eyebrows.

“Neither you goof. Thanks for this weekend, supporting me. Helping. And the whole…” He bit his lip. “The Daddy thing.”

“Do not thank me for something that is so natural, taking care of you, this is of course, what I live for,” he said quietly. “My boys, taking care of you, nothing brings me more joy.” He paused, kissed John’s forehead. “As for...Daddy. Heh. I must admit, I not only enjoy how much you like it, but for my own reasons… I find it quite the turn on.” 

John blushed. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he said softly. “Ready for sleep now, Daddy.”

“Shall I keep the movie on?” Laf asked, turned to spoon John, reached over to shut off the lamp. 

“Nah. Don’t need it.” John kissed Lafayette’s arm, which was in reach. “Right now, you’re all I need.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your patience. Your comments and kudos mean so much to me. I'm sorry I haven't been able to reply to all of them yet. From the bottom of my heart thank you!


	10. A Return

** Chapter 10: A Return **

Returning home the next morning in a mix of dress clothes and resort t-shirts went smoother than John had hoped. “We didn’t want to drink and drive,” John explained, “and thought leaving the rental somewhere overnight was a bad plan.” Henry just nodded, went back to his newspaper.

They spent the afternoon packing their bags, Lafayette teasing John about how he managed to scatter so many of his belongings. Before dinner, Lafayette was showering, and Henry called John down to his office.

“Sir?” John asked, bracing himself for the worst. Could feel the tightness in his shoulders. Henry motioned for him to sit in the armchair across from his.

“I wanted to talk,” he said simply. John nodded. “First, even though we’ve had our disagreements, I’m really glad you came down Jack. And that you brought Lafayette along. He’s a good man, and cares about you a lot. I can tell.”

If John hadn’t been sitting, he would have fallen over. This was not what he expected at all. He really didn’t know what to say.

“And… I know I’m hard on you… Sometimes I don’t get stuff… But I can tell that Lafayette, and your other one… They make you happy. A blind man could see it, Jacky. And if you’re happy, even if it goes against what I believe, I have to accept that.”

John finally found his voice. “Thank you, Father, that means a lot.”

“I also want to say, I know that… I know how some people...” Henry paused, his brow furrowed. Started again. “When your mother and I fell in love, and I brought her home, there were some folks who said things about us. About how our relationship was inappropriate. That a man from my family, my background, should not have been with Eleanor. Like she was beneath me, all because we were different.” Henry looked pained, and John’s heart seized. “I loved her, so much, and it hurt so much when folks talked. So, when those… When they were talking about Lafayette at the rehearsal, that subtle, snide talk. I don’t blame you one bit for getting angry.”

“I should have said something,” John admitted. Both shocked at John opening up, just a little. “I feel guilty, like I should be protecting him, that…”

“I can understand that feeling, son. I could see you wanting to hold back, which was probably better in the long run. No use starting drama in the church.” He coughed, looking suddenly embarrassed. “I, however, couldn’t bite my tongue at dinner.”

“Wait. What did you say, Father?”

Henry grinned, looking a little guilty. “Let’s just say that I will not stand for hearing such disrespectful words about my son or his boyfriend. And I let them know it.”

John made a mental note to ask Henry Jr. what Father had said. He grinned back. Sure, it wasn’t all okay between them, but hearing Henry had stood up for them, that he liked Laf, that he could tell John was happy. Well, it touched him.

“I have something for you,” Henry said, handing John a box. “I want you to open it when you get home. So… Alexander can see it to.”

John accepted the package, still feeling shocked. “Thanks Father. I’m going to go finish packing, get ready for dinner.”

Henry nodded. “A fine idea, Jacky. It’s been good having you here.”

***

Dinner was a joyful affair. Henry took his sons, Lafayette and Emily to a local crab shack with butcher paper on the table and crabs sold by the bushel. John took a bunch of photos of Laf, looking silly in his bib and mortified by having to eat right off the table, attempting to extract the meat from the crab as neatly as possible. John made eye contact with him while sucking the meat out of a claw, feeling satisfied at how Lafayette blushed. After dinner they walked the beach at sunset. 

Laf drew Henry into a few stories about the history of Charleston, and John was content to walk arm in arm with his boyfriend, listening to the gulls and watching sunlight glitter off the ocean.

***

Alex insisted on meeting them at the airport, despite Laf’s protests that getting to JFK was such a pain in the ass. John was silently grateful, he missed Alex so much, was desperate to see him.

“You’re both so tan!” Alex said, and John ran into him, practically knocked him over right there in baggage claim. He jockeyed for a kiss, nuzzled Alex, dropped his bookbag so he could hug him tighter.

“Mon chou!” Lafayette called, wrapped Alex in a bear hug. “We have missed you, my love.” 

“Likewise,” Alex croaked, pretending to be choking, but he was beaming. He tried to talk Laf out of a cab ride home, argued in favor of the subway and the bus, but Laf just rolled his eyes and hailed a taxi. The three of them smooshed into the backseat, Alex in the middle seat, holding hands and cuddling. 

John was distracted by the bustle of the city for a second, needed his nerves to adjust from the quiet of his hometown to the rushing energy of New York. The traffic made the cab ride a good 45 minutes, and after just a few of cuddling in the back seat and watching the hoards of people on the sidewalks, the traffic, the skyscrapers, John fished the package his father had given him out of his bag.

“What ya got there?” Alex asked curiously.

“Dunno. Something Father gave me, told me to open it with both of you.” He handed it to Alex, motioned for him to tear off the paper.

The parcel contained a framed photo, a black and white candid taken from some distance. Laf and John in their tuxedos at the picnic table, Lafayette’s face crinkled in laughter and John looking at him adoringly, such affection between the both of them it practically jumped off the print. 

Lafayette gasped in delight, examined the photo. A note fell out of the package, in Henry’s small print.

_Jacky,_

_I took this shot before the wedding, had just enough time to develop it. You know how much I love the look of old school photography. Thought it was a special shot, wanted the three of you to have it._

_Your father,  
Henry_

“How thoughtful!” Lafayette squealed, stared at the photo in awe. “Look how handsome, how happy…”

There was an intimacy to the photo, a connection that made John’s eyes water, seeing it in plain black and white. Even Alex was impressed. 

“It’s a beautiful photo,” he admitted. “And really nice for him put it together for you. For us.”

When they got home, Laf set it on the mantle next to the framed ink drawings John had done, framed photos of Laf and Alex from college, and a shot of the three of them from New Year’s Eve. 

“Next time,” Alex whispered, kissed John on the cheek. “I want to be in the picture.”

John squeezed Alex to him, returned the kiss. Lafayette was petting Alex’s hair, hugging him from behind, creating a bit of an Alex sandwich.

John felt like his smile would never fade. They were finally home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all of your support through reading, comments and kudos. Please come say hi to me on tumblr @likearootlesstree 
> 
> This verse is far from over! I hope you have enjoyed! <3

**Author's Note:**

> I just got out of the hospital, had some major surgery so I will just be posting once every day. I love comments, it may just take me some time to reply. I hope you understand. I love you all.


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